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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight.

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one.

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street.

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

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jeyramarie · 4 years

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Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 3

summary: sometimes things just don’t go as planned...

warning: smut (first time writing it, i hope it’s not shitty), cursing, fluff

w/c: 3,432

a/n: hey guys! my new trimester of nursing school just started completely which means that all the parts after this one won’t come as quickly. i’ll still be writing just not as fast. but anyway, happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~

The next day rolled around, both Y/n and Tom stayed home from work. They needed a much deserved distraction from everything they have discovered. Y/n woke up first to go to the backyard and do some morning yoga. She did that everyday but that morning she felt extra relaxed since she wasn’t going to work. The yoga session was longer too, taking more time to meditate and pray to the heavens (a/n: or the universe, in case you don't believe) for tranquility, happiness and love. Tom on the other hand, enjoyed sleeping in. He would sleep the whole day if he could. He’s the kind of person that would eat breakfast at 4 in the afternoon cause he had just woken up. When Y/n was in her last minutes of meditation, Tom walked outside in his grey sweatpants, shirtless, no underwear due to the eventful night from before. He stood there for a few, hands in his pockets, watching his wife take deep breaths. The wind blowing through her hair as she meditated the stress and anxiety away.

“Morning, love.” he said breaking the silence which made her open her eyes and turn to him.

“Good morning, honey.” she said smiling as she uncrossed her legs and started standing up. Tom stayed there, getting a great view of her ass. She stood up and skipped to him, giving him a tight hug. Y/n took away her face from his neck and stared into his eyes which made him kiss her immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring every move and shape of each other's lips. They fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were meant to touch since the beginning of all eternity.

“Let’s go get some coffee.” she whispered against his lips as they parted from the kiss a bit. Tom chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking inside towards the kitchen. After a few minutes, they sat down at the dining table, drinking their coffee, eating their fruits and eggs while Tom read the newspaper. Y/n sat there and admired him the whole time. The way his freckles shone with the sun, the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

“I forgot to tell you. We have to visit the docks later today..”

“What for exactly?” she said looking up from her plate.

“When Harrison came to my office yesterday, we looked over all the buyers from this month. One of them has worked with Adam before. I’d like for both of us to check it out, maybe he’s intimidated by a woman.” he smiled and he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb against it. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief.

“Whoever‘s not intimidated by a female mob boss, is fucking insane.” Tom cackled making Y/n giggle and lean in to give him a small kiss.

After breakfast, they started getting ready for their business outing. Y/n wanted to look intimidating so she went for the pant suit. Tom went for the suit of course but this one had a few golden details in the fabric. He was ready very quickly since his wife had to do her makeup and her hair. About 10 minutes later, she finally came downstairs. Wearing a black pantsuit with a red bralette underneath, red heels, a low bun with a few hairs framing her face and her purse and sunglasses in her hand. Tom was in complete awe, he always has been since the first time he met her.

(flashback to the night they first met)

Every important mob boss was there, mostly men, drinking and talking business. The only women there were the wives, mistresses and sexy waitresses. No one had really expected a woman to be boss. Everyone pictured them as accessories for men to “look pretty” or some sex toy.

“So, Tom tell me. Don’t you have any arm candy?” a man asked him, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“No. Not today.” Tom said, chuckling nervously as he scratched his eyebrow.

“You know, you should find one soon. There’s nothing better than a celebration after these things.” another man smirked, grabbing the ass of the woman next to him and taking a sip from his champagne. Tom got bored of the conversation which made him look around at everyone. He was on the second floor looking down over the railing. That’s when every single jaw hit the floor when Y/n walked in. The only powerful female mob boss in the country. The room went silent as she strutted into the place. People started murmuring, not expecting her to show up since she had disappeared for some time prior.

She was wearing a long red dress with a long slit on the side, her hair curled perfectly. Tom stared at her in awe, like time had stopped and he felt that his breath was taken away. Y/n looked up and caught him staring. They stared at each other for some time, feeling sparks as their eyes met. She looked away when a waitress tapped her shoulder to offer her a glass of champagne which of course she took. When she looked up again, Tom was gone. She frowned as she continued to look around, trying to find him. Suddenly, as she was standing in the middle of the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned and met with the same chocolate colored eyes that made her melt.

“Hello.” he said smiling making her smile too.

“Hi.”

“I’m Tom.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake.

“Y/n.” she shook his hand as his face went serious for a bit. Not believing that this was the woman everyone feared.

(end of flashback)

She stood in front of him and smiled.

“You ready?” he nodded and opened the front door for her to walk out. They finally made it to the car and started making their way towards the ports.

“Can you give me a background check on who we’re gonna meet?” she asked, putting on her sunglasses.

“His name is James Cavanaugh. This is the first time we ever make an exchange with him. That’s why I did the background check in the first place.”

“And that’s when you saw he had worked with Adam before..”

“Yep. For all we know Adam put him up to this so he could spy on us some more.” he said, running his hand through his hair and clenching his jaw in anger.

“Well we’re not gonna let him do that.” Y/n said softly as she grabbed her husband’s hand. He looked at her and placed his other hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was quick, both of them sitting up straight again as the car tumbled into the port. The car came to a stop which caused Tom to open the door and quickly jogged around the car to help his wife out. He opened her door and she swung her legs out. Y/n stepped out and started walking towards the men standing on the dock, her heels clacking against the wooden surface. Tom was right behind her with his hand on her lower back.

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” he said as they got closer to him.

“Well, hello Tom. Good to see you.” Jame said, shaking Tom’s hand as he looked Y/n up and down.

“And who may this beauty be?” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, thanks to her sunglasses, he didn’t see that. Tom was filled with rage at that moment. That’s his wife the guy is raging over. All he wanted to do at that moment was shoot James in the head.

“I’m Mrs. Holland.” she said with zero expression on her face.

“Oh, the infamous Y/n. Well, it’s a privilege to finally meet you.” he said, smirking as he extended his hand, waiting for her to shake it.

“I don’t shake hands, Mr. Cavanaugh.” she said and walked further down the dock.

“Alright, well… let’s talk business.” he said, turning around as Tom made his way to his wife.

“That is what we came for, didn’t we?” she said crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes, we did-“

“Then let’s get to it, James. We don’t have all day.” Tom said, interrupting him as he fiddled with his wrist watch.

“Okay, well… let’s talk about the trade. Your best partners in exchange for my incoming shipments.” he said squinting his eyes due to the sun with his hands in his pockets.

“What shipment?” Y/n asked, taking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Some exclusive guns from Canada. Some drugs too.” he said looking at the couple with nerves. They stayed quiet, Tom drawing patterns on Y/n’s lower back signaling her to start asking questions to see if he mentioned Adam.

“Have you done this with anyone else?” Y/n asked seriously making Jame look at her and then at Tom.

“Yeah. A couple times actually.”

“With who?” Tom asked, gaining a questionable look from him.

“Why is that so impor-“

“Because we only work with people we trust and if you mention someone we have worked with, that means we can trust you too.” she said a bit harshly interrupting him in the middle of his question.

“What she said.” Tom smiled, tilting his head towards his wife and taking off his sunglasses and turning around to look at the ocean behind him. Y/n knew that made James think, she knew he was going to mention Adam. ‘Jackpot’ she thought, smiling internally.

“I’ve worked with Adam Matthews… multiple times..” he said fidgeting with his fingers.

“You hear that, honey? He’s worked with Adam.” Y/n said turning to Tom which made him turn and walk to her.

“Oh well, that’s nice.” he said as he stood next to his wife with his hand on her lower back.

“Do we have a deal or not?” James asked, feeling uneasy. He was desperate to know.

“Well, James we do have to think about it. We can’t just jump into these things. You know this, being a businessman yourself.” she smiled devilishly and looked at her husband, who was smiling too.

“We’ll get back to you, James. Very soon.” and with that, Tom grabbed Y/n’s hand and started walking towards the car. Leaving James alone on the dock, thinking about what just happened. The first thing he wanted to do was call Adam, to tell him that his plan wasn’t working. What he didn’t know was that the Holland’s driver put a tracker on his car. His secret location wasn’t going to be a secret anymore.

The Holland’s made it home with bright smiles on their faces. Their plan was in motion, everything was going smoothly. Plus, they had the whole day to themselves.

“That went well.” Y/n said putting down her purse on the kitchen counter as Tom took off his suit jacket.

“Did you see how nervous he was?” he laughed as he rolled up his sleeves watching his wife step down from her heels.

“Yeah. I swear, I saw him sweating.” she chuckled and turned to her husband who was staring at her with a smirk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said putting a hair behind her ear.

“Your intimidating side is really sexy… and hot.” Tom whispered as he walked to her grabbing her waist and burying his face in her neck. His lips were soft against it. He bit and sucked on the sensitive skin to mark her, making her moan a bit.

“You only find me sexy and hot when I'm intimidating?” he quickly took his face out of her neck and looked at her.

“I didn’t say that. You’re always sexy and hot and beautiful. Just… today you were extra sexy.. and hot… and beautiful.” he smiled and kissed her lips slowly, teasing her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, making him move his to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss got intense immediately, both hungry for each other’s touch. Tom grazed his tongue on her bottom lip making her grant access. Their tongues battled for domination as Tom unbutton her suit jacket, revealing her thin bralette. Her nipples hard with excitement, poking through the lace fabric. Tom moved his hand upward, very slowly until his thumb graced her sensitive breast making her jump at the sudden contact. She parted from him to breath as she placed her forehead against his.

“We should go to our bedroom.” Y/n whispered, making him smile. Tom then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to go upstairs. Once inside, Tom pushed Y/n against the door placing his lips on her again. Her hands went to his hair pulling it slightly as his hands went to her back to unhook her bralette.

Y/n bit Tom’s lip sensually making him groan in pleasure. She then moved her hands to his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress making him fall flat on his back. He moved one of his arms under his head to get a better view of his wife who was starting to take off her clothes. She unbuttoned her pants, letting them fall to the floor which left her in her underwear. Y/n moved her hand to her back and unhooked her bralette, letting it slide off her arms. Tom was drooling at this point, he couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and perfect was with him. She slowly moved her hands down her torso and played with the hemline of her lace thong. He quickly sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to straddle his lap.

“I wanna take it off, darling.” he muttered against her lips while playing with the g string on her lower back. Y/n placed her hands on his jaw, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His hand roamed all over her back, ass and hips. Feeling every bump and line of her skin. She started moving her hips against him, making his member grow in size quickly. A moan got caught up in her throat as Tom’s hard member rubbed against her bundle of nerves. He quickly turned, getting Y/n under him to start grinding harder on her making her whimper in desperation.

“Don’t tease anymore, please. I want you.” she moaned against his lips making him groan and stand up. Tom quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. He looked up and saw his wife biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together to create some kind of friction. That almost made him cum right then and there. Y/n sat back up as Tom leaned down which made her grab his face to pull him into a kiss. Her legs immediately opened making him fall between them perfectly. Her nails scratched his back muscles yearning for him to be inside her. His lips moved to her neck, down to her breast onto her stomach.

“Baby, I don't want foreplay.” she whimpered making him look up at her and smirk.

“No foreplay?”

“No, I need you… please.” she said against his lips as he climbed on top of her once again. Tom grabbed his member and aligned it with her entranced. She was soaking wet which helped him slide in easily. Y/n gasped as he stretched her out the deeper he went. He halted his movements letting her get used to the size. Of course, this isn't their first time but every time was just as overwhelming.

“You okay?” he whispered against her lips making her nod and give him a peck. Tom moved his hips back and moved them forward again making Y/n moan. One of her hands stayed on his hair and the other went down to his ass to give him a squeeze, making him go faster. His pace became faster as he sucked her right nipple making her moan into his ear.

“Oh my- fuck, Tom.” the room was filled with moans and praises as his pace continued to go faster. He groaned into her neck as she clenched around him making his dick twitch inside. Y/n started to move her hips trying to meet his thrusts. Her back arched as his member hit her g-spot repeatedly.

“Fuck, darling. You feel- fuck- so good.” he groaned as she gave him pornographic moans which made him go faster. Slapping sounds filled the room as Y/n clenched around him. He suddenly pulled away making her open her eyes quickly, giving him a questionable look.

“I want you on top of me.” he whispered, making her bite her lip as he moved to sit against the headboard. She straddled his waist and licked her hand, gaining a confused look from her husband. Y/n grabbed Tom’s hard member and started moving her hand up and down slowly, running her thumb over the tip.

“Fuck.” he groaned placing his hands on her hips, watching his wife’s move a bit faster. After a few more hand movements, Y/n moved forward and lowered herself onto the hard member. She went slowly, feeling him stretch her a lot more from this position. Her head fell back with a moan as Tom attacked her neck and chest. She moved her hips inna circling motion, then started to lift them up and down. He moved his hands to her ass, helping her with the pace.

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good, so tight.” he said against her breast as he licked and bit her sensitive nipple. She placed her hands on his chest for leverage to bounce faster, making her tits move up and down. Tom looked up at her in awe, pieces of hair falling from her bun, her face expressing an intense feeling of pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned his name over and over. He was so whipped for her. Her entrance got tighter as she got closer to her climax.

“Baby… I’m close.” she whimpered into his neck getting lost in the feeling.

“Come around me, darling. Fuck- please, I wanna feel ya.” he muttered into her shoulder after biting it. He then moved to grab her ass and thrust fast into her making her scream.

“Oh fuck!” she moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than before. Her moans got louder as his movements got faster until they both reached their climax. Y/n fell on top of Tom, both of them completely out of breath. She slowly rolled off of him and closed her eyes. They stayed there for a bit, regaining their breaths. Y/n then sat up and wobbled to the bathroom making Tom giggle.

“Shut up, Holland!” she shouted from the toilet making him laugh more. She walked out and got into bed with him, laying her head on his chest while their legs tangled up together.

“I love you.” he muttered with his lip on her hairline as she drew patterns on his chest.

“I love you too.” she said looking up at him, then moving to peck him on the lips.

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we have to check the tracker.” Tom said, playing with her hands.

“I know… but can we stay like this longer? We can check it later, my computer is right there.” she said softly pointing at her dresser.

“Alright then.” he mumbled and pulled her closed feeling each other's skin. They stayed that way for a few hours. Talking about random things about their childhood, the places they wanna travel to and just things they love about each other. The couple was in the middle of a conversation when Tom’s phone started ringing. It was Harrison. He then took his arms off of Y/n and stretched to the side to grab the phone.

“Hey, mate.”

“Tom, where are you?”

“I’m at home, why?” he asked, smiling looking at his wife who was staring at him with heart eyes.

“Get your ass to Le Royale, right now!”

“Why? what’s going on?”

“James Cavanaugh is dead.”

“What?!” Tom shouted, making Y/n sit up.

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed

‘James.’ he mouthed back leaving her confused as he listened to Harrison rant.

“They found him in Adam’s office this morning.”

“Where’s Adam?”

“Nobody knows. We have to be really careful, Tom. No one is safe right now.”

mr&mrs.h: @ilovefandoms102 @themaddies-obx @guillerminacaba @teenwishes08 @runawayolives @theartisticqueen @quacksonlover81 @wonderfulfluffer @spidernerdsblog

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #mob! tom holland x reader #mob!reader #mob!au #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #mob!tom #tom holland fic #mr. & mrs. holland #mob! tom holland x mob! reader

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after-witch · 3 years

Text

Pinned [Yandere Shigaraki x Secretary!Reader]

Title: Pinned [Yandere Shigaraki x Secretary!Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve given him a kink and isn’t that your fault, really? Follow up to “Office Hours.”

For request:

-I can’t stop thinking about your secretary fic, I think it gave me a tickling kink that I never knew I had. I would absolutely love it if you wrote some more of creepy Shigaraki and his captive secretary!]

Word Count: 1334

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, tickling, just some kink PWP

You’ve given him a kink.

Okay.

A few kinks.

And maybe they were dormant inside him all along but seeing you in your stockings and heels and that fucking blouse when it gets translucent and sweat-soaked underneath his fingers--you complained about the sweat but shit, it can be thrown in a washer if you really care that much--has awakened something in him. An itch that only you can scratch--or rather, an itch that he only wants to scratch with you. And sometimes that scratch is literal, depending on his mood.

Which is why he’s staring at you now. You’re sitting at the desk he’d found on the street, a scratched up ratty thing with a bum leg that someone was throwing out. Your fingers are flying over the keys of the laptop--his laptop, but he’s nice enough to let you use it, WiFi disabled of course--and who knows what you’re typing but what you’re typing isn’t actually important.

As long as as he can focus on the way your back arches in the uncomfortable chair, the way you idly slip a heel off and flex your stockinged foot, the swishing sound your skirt keeps making when you shift against the tattered leather seat. You were trying to drive him crazy, weren’t you? You had to be. Every sound, every movement, designed to make him want you. Need you.

Fuck, you were perfect.

He’s glad more and more that he took you, rescued you, really, from that shitty hero you called a “boss.” Hypocritical asshole. If Tomura hadn’t acted first, that lowlife do-nothing (seriously, you could’ve aimed for a higher caliber of hero) was surely aiming to get you into bed. Maybe he was spiking the orange juice at your boring little brunches. Maybe he would have told you he’d help your career if you “helped him.” What a sicko.

You’ve slipped both of your black heels off entirely and fuck, fuck, fuck. He presses his knuckles to his mouth and groans and your eyes dart to him and away and that’s it, he can’t sit here, half-paying attention to a video game anymore. He sets the controller down and he sees right away that your body is tensing up, wondering what he’s up to; well, you’ll see, won’t you? You were practically begging him to come over there, so you shouldn’t be surprised.

“Tomura--”

Your voice is sweet and he knows you want him to go sit back down, so you can work--”work”--but he just can’t. You’re making it impossible for him to leave you alone. Can he help it if the way you keep glancing at him, pretending you don’t care (but you don’t) what he’s going to do sends a thrill down his stomach?

And you really tense up once he makes up his mind what to do, plopping down on the stained carpet and ducking his head under the desk. You make to tuck your legs behind the chair, but you’re too slow, and he gets a firm grip on one of your feet easily.

“Tomura,” you say again, urgency overpowering the sweetness.

“Quiet,” he tells you. “Just keep working.”

Your foot seems made to fit in his hand, and no matter how you try to pull away, his grip stays firm. He wonders if it ever dawns on you that his hands can do so much worse than tickle. Not to you, though, never to you. Not that he lets you know that--a little threat in the air is needed, particularly when you’re being stubborn. It’s not like he can threaten to dock your pay if you don’t fall in line, right?

“Come on,” you whine, when he brings up his other hand and begins to stroke your foot, up and down, deceptively patient on his part. Your foot curls as much as possible and he can hear your breath, hitching and huffing.

This is his favorite part. When you try to block it out--when you’re surely thinking that maybe this time you can hold out long enough, and he’ll get bored and go back to gaming.

You’re silly.

He’ll never get bored of you.

He also knows that you can never make it that long without giving in. All it takes is a bit of digging, itching into the nylon with a single finger, and there--like always--you break, and your bubbling, beautiful little laugh makes his stomach do flips. Whatever feeble typing you were doing before ceases entirely in favor of your hands banging on the desk, pounding helplessly on the wood.

Fuck.

Do you know what you do to him?

Fuck.

He’s chewing on his bottom lip before he knows it and there’s a bit of blood in his smile as he glances up, almost pensive, not wanting to look straight up your skirt like some kind of perv.

“T-T--Tomura,” you grind out, voice fizzy and light and breathy and laughing. “Please-stop-please-stop,” and he can’t see your face but he bets your eyes are squeezed shut, bets the eye makeup is running a bit, bets your mouth is stretched wide and he wishes he could be up there and down here at the same time so he could kiss you.

He’ll have to get you on the couch if he wants to do that.

A quick glance up, the sight of your nyloned thighs underneath the skirt rubbing together as you squirm on the chair, is all he needs to change positions.

Your sigh in relief when he lets your foot ago, and when he gets out from under the table he can see that he was right--your mouth is still slightly curved in a helpless smile and your makeup’s a bit runny and your breathing in and out, catching your breath underneath that slightly sweaty white blouse. How, how, how did that dipshit hero who hired you not bend you over his desk the first day you walked into the office?

Not that it matters. Not that your former employer matters. Not that anyone should matter to you anymore but Shigaraki Tomura, right?

He feels your muscle tense up, tight and wary, but decides to be gracious and ignore it as he looms behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and inhaling your scent. A glance at the laptop screen shows what you were writing--I’mboredI’mboredI’mboredI’mbored, how cute; but he wastes no more time before leaning forward to shut the laptop and pull the chair--and you-- backwards, until the back of the gaming chair rests solidly against his chest.

The sound you make as as gravity pulls you down can only be described (affectionately) as a squawk, and your throat looks smooth and exposed as you stare up at him, probably hoping the chair doesn’t fall out from under you. You’re so damn cute. Hot. Perfect. His.

“Couch or chair?” He asks, and your eyes dart around for a third option that doesn’t exist. You bite on your lip, cherry red smearing a bit on your tooth.

“Couch,” you practically sigh the words out of your mouth. You start to lift yourself out the chair and pause, tentative. “Tomura?”

He hmms, only half paying attention, instead focusing on the way your body looks as you finally slide out of the chair and perch yourself on the couch in anticipation.

“Keep your damn fingers out of my armpits this time.”

He won’t make any promises.

#yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #afterwitch writes #wait do people still use PWP...

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

The Bay (A Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader Drabble)

A/N: I wrote this on vacation while I was getting emotional about Lake Michigan and completely forgot about it... oops! Enjoy this shitty rushed love letter from my heart to both Helmut and my great state <3

Synopsis: You and Helmut enjoy the final evening of your vacation on the dock overlooking Grand Traverse Bay.

Tags: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Kisses, General Pretentious Michigan/Great Lakes Experiences, Overly Floral Prose, Mosquito Bites

Rating: T

Warnings: Minor Mentions Of Casual Drinking, Slapping Mosquitos But Like... Not In A Violent Way

Word Count: 1100~

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your entire life?”

Your question was rhetorical at best. Of course, Helmut had seen things far more beautiful than the sight you’d set before him. He was rich and affluent, a man with ties to royalty and a private jet that would happily take him wherever he wanted to go, but still, you hoped he could humor your small-town sensibilities a bit longer as you enjoyed the final evening of your spur-of-the-moment weekend holiday.

Before you, the Grand Traverse bay stretched out into the distance, glassy and still save for the gentle ripples made by your dangling, frozen toes.

The sun was still relatively high up in the sky, nowhere near the horizon, but you could just begin to see purple streaking through the sky. Soon the sky would be filled with colors; red, yellow, orange, purple… a sunset more spectacular than anywhere else in the world. For the moment, though, the sky was still its usual cornflower blue. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Helmut hummed from his spot on the dock, reclined on a colorful beach chair, his latest book in hand. “It is… unique, in the best of ways,” Then, he grinned. “What’s so funny?”

He chuckled a bit to himself before lifting up his sunglasses and smiling down at you. “I am simply enjoying the view,”

“I thought you said it was unique,”

“Perhaps, but I was only referring to the scenery. When I include you in the picture, though, any view automatically becomes the most beautiful I have ever seen,”

Despite the fact that you’d known Helmut for years, your cheeks still heated at his endless flattery. “Stop that, you know I was talking about the lake!”

With little more than a thoughtful hum he slipped from his seat and kissed you softly, the knees of his pants scuffing against the wood of the dock as the pages of his book, abandoned beside his glass of white wine on a small folding table, fluttered softly in the cool, late-afternoon breeze.

Your combined laughter carried all the way up to the rental house.

You stayed that way for a good, long time. In fact, by the time you thought about anything besides the feel of his plush lips on your own, the mosquitos were out in full force, and a soft purple dusk was settling over the sky.

The pair of you were squeezed onto the colorful beach chair as the sun descended, falling below the treeline across the water. Neither of you really knew how you’d gotten there exactly, not that you minded the closeness. His natural warmth meant you didn’t have to break away and retrieve your sweater from inside. He definitely wasn’t objecting either if the way his arms snaked around your waist was a good indicator.

You broke the silence after pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, voice joining the chorus of frogs and grasshoppers alike. “I think I’ll swim tonight before we sleep. You can join me if you want to, but I get it if you’d rather stay inside,”

“I’ll consider it.” His hand fell away from the meat of your side after giving it a soft squeeze, reaching for his glass. “I don’t quite understand your obsession with torturing yourself in 45-degree water, but if it’s important to you, you know I will partake,”

That earned him a soft snuffle of your face against the warmth of his pulse. As he leaned into the touch, the last of his wine slipped sweet and cool down his throat. When you lifted yourself up to kiss him once more you could taste the last of it wet on his lips.

“Should we turn in for the moment?” Helmut’s voice was soft, almost reverent against your flesh.

“Why would we? It’s gorgeous out here,”

“Schatz,” a light smack against your flesh punctuated his sharp words, “you’re practically being eaten alive,” Sure enough, a quick glance at your stinging skin revealed a tiny crumpled mosquito, crushed beneath the weight of his palm. A sheepish sigh was the most you could offer in retaliation.

“Alright, alright! You’ve got a point. I just… five more minutes?”

Helmut tensed, prepared to put his foot down in the very special, gentle way that only he could, but, unlike almost every other moment in your whole relationship where he insisted to know what was good for you, he relented, settling back down into his chair with little more than a smile and an apathetic shrug. “Five more minutes. Then we’ll find some bug repellant and we can get ready for our evening swim,”

Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Our?”

“Did you think I’d allow you to be alone out here in the dark, falling prey to these blood-sucking fiends?”

Once again, Helmut slapped your flesh and his hand came away with the telltale red smear of an unlucky bug. You were already starting to itch despite the relatively early hour, which was honestly to be expected so close to the still, marshy water’s edge the swarms of irritating monsters called home. Perhaps, if you were lucky, the chilly waters would numb your senses to what was sure to be an unpleasant amount of bites.

Even if they didn’t heal your ills, there was something captivating about the seemingly endless waters that awaited you. The curved trees that drooped and swayed above and the blooming lilies that cradled the sunset below and all the endless ebbing, flowing waves that crashed against the pebbled shore in a whisper singing sweetly no matter where you rest- Come home to me! I waited for you! Do you recognize me? You’ve grown!

You’re home.

The realization doesn’t come all at once. No, it’s a slow thing. The waves crash and the mosquitos hum and Helmut rubs his hands, cold with condensation from his glass, down the soft exposed flesh of your arms. Ever so slowly but all at once, the final piece clicks, and you smile.

Somehow, you know you’re where you’re meant to be.

The world would turn, that you were sure of. You’d wake in the morning and pack up your bags before running to wherever Helmut saw fit for your next worldly excursion, and that was fine. You couldn’t stay rooted in one place forever. Still, though, at that moment, you were sure you had found the path you were always meant to find.

With that in your mind and heart, you leaned closer to Helmut and drew him in for one more soft kiss. Neither of you tried to pull away for a good long while.

You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #baron zemo x you

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

John B x reader

Summary: You end up pregnant and because John B’s life was already hard, you didn’t want to make it any worse so you keep it from him. However, after a tense night at the boneyard, everything comes slipping out.

A/N: This is my first obx fic, I hope you guys like it!! I’ll post the rest of the obx fics/requests I have tomorrow (Thursday).

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Your eyes stare at the two pink lines. Positive. How could you and John B let this happen? You’d been careful. You used protection and you were on birth control, something your mother had you put on after she found out you were dating John B, a pogue. Your mother warned you about pregnancy and strongly urged you to use protection. Your family’s reputation would not be able to handle a pregnancy caused by a pogue. The reputation was already beginning to crack after they found out about you and him, this would completely ruin it.

Your mind then went to John B and his life. He was living alone at 18. His dad disappeared in a boating accident years ago and he was barely scrapping by. His life was already hard and to throw a baby into the mix? It would be even worse for him. You couldn’t do that to him. Especially, since your family would disown you and kick you out, leaving you to live with John B. However, this was John B’s baby and he deserved to know. He would want to know you were carrying his child. You knew he was going to be a good father, no doubt about it.

Gathering yourself from you white tiled bathroom floor, you stood in the mirror and wiped your eyes, washing the mascara from your face and headed to the Chateau.

When you arrived, you let out a sigh of relief to only see John B’s van. Kie’s car or JJ’s bike no where in sight. You stepped out of your car and headed inside.

“John B?” You called out, but there was no answer. You stepped through the house, checking in the rooms, but no John B. You checked the time; he’d be home from working at the dock by now. So, where was he?

You stepped off the screen porch and looked around the yard when you heard a boat motor. As you headed down to the dock, there was John B, pulling up in HMS Pogue. He must have gone for an evening drive.

“Hey.” You gave a small smile and a wave, stepping to the end of the dock as he pulled the boat closer to the edge.

He threw you the rope to tie off the boat, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

You bent down and tied off the boat, “I needed to talk with you about something.” After tying off the boat, you stood and wiped your hands on your jeans.

As he stepped off the boat and onto the dock, you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders, “Can it wait? I’ve had a shitty day.” He sighs and sits down on the bench, running his hands through his hair.

You frowned and nodded, “What’s wrong? Do you want to want to talk about it?” You take a seat next to him and put a loving hand on his thigh.

He holds his head in his hands, “They’ve cut back my hours on the dock, which means I won’t be able make enough to pay bills, so I have to find another job.”

And that is when you knew, you couldn’t tell him about the baby.

It had been a few weeks, John B had yet to find a second job and you had yet to tell him about the baby. It was Kie who found out about the pregnancy first. You didn’t mean for it to happen but she’d come over to drop something off and found you sobbing in the bathroom floor. She was your best friend and you knew there was no lying to her.

“I’m pregnant, Kie.” You sobbed into your hands.

She immediately pulled you into her arms as you two sat on the bathroom floor. She let you sob for as long as you needed, “Does John B know?”

You shook your head and quickly pulled away to look at her, “He can’t know Kie. You can’t tell him. Please.”

She sadly nods, “Okay, I won’t.” It wasn’t her secret to tell.

You didn’t want to go to the Boneyard for a party, but John B begged you to come. He’d finally found another job and wanted to celebrate. As you and the pogues were situated around a fire, you sat next to Kie, who was telling you about her horrible date, when John B came stumbling over.

“Hey y/n.” He slurs, two cups in his hands, “Here drink up.”

You glanced at Kie and then back up at John B, “I’m okay John B. I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t ever feel like drinking. You don’t feel like doing anything anymore! All you do is sit around on your little kook ass crying about the dumbest shit!”

Your eyes sting with tears. It had been a rough couple of weeks. Your hormones were horrible and all over the place and you had terrible morning sickness lasting through out the day.

“John B.” Kie snapped, “Don’t be an ass!”

He looks at Kie then back at you, noticing the tears, “There she goes now with the damn water works.” He shakes his head and finishes off his drink with a gulp, tossing the cup in the trash.

You stand, “John B I think it’s time for you to stop. You’ve had enough..” You go to grab the other drink in his hand but he smacks your hand away.

“Don’t touch my fucking drink.”

You put your hands up defensively, Kie standing at your side as JJ and Pope make their way over seeing all the commotion.

“You sit all high and mighty in that big ass house of yours while the rest of us pogues bust our asses to put food on the table!” He points a finger at you.

‘he’s just drunk. He’s just drunk and doesn’t mean those things.’ You repeat in your head, but your hormones are already raging and another tear slips down your face. This is what sends John B into a fit.

“And there you are with those damn tears again! What do you have to cry about?! You’ve never worked a day in your life and you probably never will!”

“I’m pregnant John B. That’s why I cry all the time! That’s why I don’t drink anymore or I’m always sick!” Tears are steadily falling and Kie puts an hand on your back.

John B is taken back by this information and stumbles back a little, “P-pregnant?” He shakes his head, the alcohol making his head spin. “There isn’t no fucking way you’re pregnant.” His eyes snap to you, “We used protection. You were on the pill. That isn’t my baby.” He points to your stomach. The next thing that happens is something none of the pogues saw coming. He tosses the drink in your face, the beer splashing on your face and down the front of your clothes.

Everything else happened so fast. Suddenly, JJ was protectively in front of you, grabbing at John B and yelling at him. Kie is cussing at John B and trying to get napkins to wipe up your face.

JJ and Pope drag John B off toward the van, still cussing and yelling at him for what he did.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, wiping the beer off your face.

You shake your head and let out a sob.

“Oh sweetie..” She wraps her arms around you in a hug, “He was just drunk, you know that he didn’t mean any of it.”

Kie drove you home that night and made sure you were okay before leaving. JJ and Pope took John B back to the Chateau where John B finally passed out on the couch. They didn’t leave either, they wanted to be the first to tell John B how much he fucked up after he woke up the next morning.

You slept in the next morning, never leaving the bed. Kie came over and hung out but never once mentioned John B. Not like you wanted to hear about him anyways. Maybe your mother was right, dating a pogue was wrong.

Back at the Chateau, he knew he’d fucked up. The next morning after the outburst, JJ and Pope were quick to tell him everything that happened, how he’d drank too much, snapped on you, the pregnancy announcement and the throwing of the drink.

“Oh I fucked up.” John B groans, running his hands through his hair, “I need to go see her.” He starts to walk out but Pope grabs his arm, “Kie called from her house. She doesn’t want to see you.”

He shook Pope’s arm off, “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

When he arrived at your house, Kie’s car was still in the driveway. Kie was never going to let you see him. He sighs and knocks on the door. To no surprise, Kie opens the door.

“She doesn’t want to see you John B.”

“I know Kie, I fucked up but please, I have to apologize.” He begs.

She shakes her head and goes to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot, “Kie, Please!”

You slowly make your way down the stairs, wrapped in a blanket, “Kie?”

Kie turns around, “He’s leaving, it’s okay.”

John B looks passed Kie and looks at your appearance. He can see you’ve been crying all night. Your eyes are swollen and red. And you’re wrapped in your favorite fluffy blanket, one only used when things were bad, “Y/n please… I’m sorry.” His eyes are pleading as he begs.

You wrap the blanket tighter around you as you walk behind Kie, “It’s okay, Kie…” You give a small smile at her and she nods before heading back to your room. Pushing John B out of the house you close the door behind you and sit on one of the white rocking chairs. “Well?”

He quickly takes a seat next to you, “I’m sorry about last night. I was a complete asshole.”

You laugh halfheartedly, “Asshole? That was more than being an asshole John B. You snapped on me and said mean things and you threw a drink in my face.”

His face falls, “I know. And I don’t know what got into me. I got scared when you said you were pregnant. I was already stressed and had finally found a second job then you say you’re pregnant? I can barely take care of myself, let alone another human being.”

“You don’t think I’m stressed out? I can’t take care of another human being either! You’re not the only one in this John B.”

He sighs, nodding, “I know and I should have never reacted the way I did.” He stands from the chair and steps in front of you, bending his knees so he’s eye level with you. He puts a loving hand on your knee, “I will take care of you and our baby, no matter what. Okay?”

You sniff, another round of tears filling your eyes, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

His heart breaks when he sees the look in your eye. They’re filled with regret and sadness. “Hey.. I know that.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek, “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. This is on both of us, not just you. It was an accident and that’s okay. We’re going to go through this together. I’m going to be there every step of the way, alright?”

You sniffle and nod, before standing up and walking right into his open arms. He kisses the top of your head, “We’re going to be parents.” He whispers and gives you a small squeeze. Suddenly the thought of having a baby pogue, half you, half him running around made his heart swell. It was earlier than he would have hoped. He wanted to have a steady job. He wanted to marry you first and then start a family but looks like he’d have to do things another way and that was okay.

Few weeks went by. You were now 3 months pregnant, no baby bump yet. You’d asked Kie to accompany you to one of the appointments because John B said he had to work and couldn’t make it. You two had made a day of it, stopping for lunch and did some shopping around town. Now, you two were on your way home. You decided you’d wait at the Chateau for John B until he got off work.

“Can you take me by John B’s?” You ask, looking over at Kie.

“yeah sure.” She nods, turning off a side street and heading toward the Chateau.

When you arrive, his van is parked by the house along with JJ’s bike. “Thought he was at work?” She asks, turning off the car.

“Yeah I did too..” you mutter before getting out of the car. The two of you head up on the front porch; the door is open and it sounds like JJ and John B are arguing.

“That’s not the right part, JJ! It’s this one.”

“Dude, I’m not a rocket scientist.”

“This has to be perfect.”

You look at Kie, who shrugs, so the two of you walk into the house and to the office where John B’s dad kept all his treasures and research. However, the room isn’t filled with his dad’s things anymore. It was empty. The walls had been painted a light grey and there were baby animals hung around the room. In the middle of the room sat John B and JJ, half of a crib up, the rest of the parts were strewed around them.

Your eyes swelled with tears, “John B..”

His head snapped up to you, oh shit. He’d lied to you about work and now was caught right in the middle of it.

“I’m just gonna.. go outside.” JJ quickly stands and follows Kie out, leaving you and John B in the room.

He slowly stands, “I wanted it to be a surprise… this is the nursery.. for our baby.”

Your let out a small sob, admiring the room, “It’s amazing!”

His face lights up, “Really? You like it?”

“Like it? I love it John B!” You smile, turning around to face him, frowning, “But all your dad’s stuff.”

He nods, “In the shed. I figured he wouldn’t mind his grandchild having this room..”

You look at the décor and then the crib, “How could you afford all this?”

“I had some savings set aside for something else. But I knew this was more important.” He steps over to you, “Do you like the color? I can change it if you don’t like it. It’s just the guy at the paint shop said grey was a neutral color since I didn’t know the gender.”

You quickly shook your head and smiled, “No, it’s perfect. All of it.. is perfect.” Your hand digs into your back pocket and pull out the ultrasound photo.

“New ultrasound photo?” He asks as you hand it to him.

You point to the little bean in the photo, “Size of a plum now.” You giggle a little.

He chuckles, looking over the photo, “Size of a plum..”

You nod, “Doctor said baby was healthy and growing just fine. And the mother was doing great too.” You laugh a little.

He smiles, “Can I keep this one? I want to put it with my others” He’d kept the photos from the first ultrasound, hung on the fridge and in the van. He was proud and would show of the photo anytime someone entered in the Chateau or even the van. “We know John B, we saw the photo in the van.” The pogues would mutter.

“Sure. I have another one in the car. That’s your copy.”

His hand slips around your waist and pulls you into his side, his free hand going to your tummy, “My little family…”

OBX Tag list: @emmalvei-blog , @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6

#john b routledge x reader #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b routledge imagines #john b obx #john b x female!reader #obx imagine #obx imagines #obx #obx fanfiction #chase stokes #outer banks netflix #outer banks

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lisinfleur · 4 years

Text

In your arms

The request:

Author’s Notes | Fuck the whole universe. I can't see that shitty ending for our pup and not doing anything about this. So, here is the first of the many things I'll write to correct what made us bleed in this last season of our beloved show! Hope you guys like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Viking age AU, fixing plot AU, requested by anon. Words | 2941 ⁑ Warnings: Spoilers ahead. Mention to major character’s death, some angst.

"No brother! You've done your work! Do not interfere anymore. All my life has been a preparation for this moment. Stay back."

The sound of Ivar's voice and their last conversation for a long time populated his mind.

The many times they'd tried to reach for each other's ends and failed miserably made sense all at once in a single sentence.

"I could never kill you..."

What was left untold for their whole life, finally spoken.

"I love you. Now go. Go!"

Screams of strength and bravery overcame Ivar's final words of fear in Hvitserk's mind.

"Are we afraid of the death? No!"

For days he laid among the Christians after burying his brother like a true Viking lord, ensuring whoever was to find his grave would know what his brother wanted...

"Here is the grave of the most famous Viking that ever lived!"

The last promise he made before his little brother's eyes were lost from his to go into the golden doors he wasn't able to see, but was sure were open for Ivar to enter, engraved in his mind as if they were marked by fire.

"No one will ever forget Ivar, the Boneless."

He had to do it. He had to push forward his brother's legacy and what better way than doing what Ivar intended when they came back to stand on those cursed lands once again? Those poisonous lands that took his father, two of his little brothers, and the memory of the older one from who he separated in that place. That terrible place.

He would burn that place to ashes! And then he would spread those ashes over Ivar's grave like a gift to his brother's memory.

And so... He would come home. To fulfill one last promise also marked on fire in his mind and his heart.

"I'll come back, Y/N. I'll come back to you."

He had just found you after the many years of tragedy in his life. So, you became his secret in Kattegat. A secret he didn't tell not even to his beloved little brother, afraid somehow Ivar's hands could reach and rip his heart from his chest one more time.

You served his tables when he was younger and became a free woman since no one was caring about the fleeing slaves in the middle of that whole war he and his brothers fought with each other. But you'd never forgotten him and when he came back with his brother under the angry words of the town, you came after him, spoke of long-gone times and memories. And you offered your services for him who was once a good master in exchange for his mercy since now you were lost and helpless in the middle of the confusion Kattegat had become with so many rulers in so little time.

It didn't take too long for him to see you were a gift the gods had blessed him with. In a matter of days, his heart was bent.

To fall in love with you was easy. To leave you at the cabin when the time to leave had come was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

You cried in his chest and he could still remember how hard it was to hold your tears. He knew it could be his last battle... You knew he could never come back from that trip. But they had to do it.

You couldn't argue with his fate.

You couldn't beg him to stay.

So, you made him promise he would come back to you and swore you would wait for him. To warrant his promise was real, he left his recently recovered arm ring in your hands.

His fingers touched the pendant on his chest. Another hacksilver, placed alongside the one he had earned from his father on his necklace. You had given that pendant to him saying you wanted it back and so, he would have to come back to give it back to you.

Sometimes Hvitserk would wonder what was in your mind now. He knew the news of Ivar's defeat and Harald's death had reached Kattegat at that point. Would they say he was dead as well? Did they know he was a prisoner for so long?

Would you be there, waiting for him yet?

Promises were promises. Things were close to an end.

Hvitserk stopped a moment to admire his little brother's mind and toughness once again: it was hard as fuck to play games with the Christians and mislead them was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Hvitserk was a berserker. The mindless battle was his favorite game and those mental games were Ivar's specialty.

Maybe it was why he decided to do it that way.

Ivar's way.

It was his brother's legacy after all.

For months he had played the Christian. He accepted that stupid baptism and walked with a cross around his neck. He spoke meekly and accepted that stupid name they gave him as if it could erase everything he was and would ever be.

From behind, his crows were cawing at the Dane kings' ears at the settlement beside Wessex, remembering them he himself was also a son of Ragnar, fated to Valhalla, who, unlike Ubbe, wanted those lands entirely to their people as a fair payment for the lives those Christians had stolen from them.

Ragnar Loðbrók.

Harald Finehair.

Ivar, the Boneless.

The whole unavenged settlement prince Aethelwulf had destroyed years ago in time...

Their blood was considered a fair price for his people to rise. The position of third Dane king, abandoned by his older brother, was a vacancy Hvitserk was considered fitting to occupy.

Under the mantle of lies and with the night by his side, Hvitserk dressed his armor once again and headed up to the doors of the Royal Villa to open them to his people like once his brother Ubbe had opened the gates of York for them to enter.

Standing in the middle of the gates as the army of Vikings invaded the town, Hvitserk could almost hear his brother's voice screaming and the sound of that unmistakable chariot filling the air as if Ivar was riding with them into the Royal Villa, conquering what he wasn't able to see falling in front of his eyes.

Alfred fled with Elsewith and their child. Hvitserk spared their lives as they had spared his own. What's fair is fair and Ivar would forgive him for denying the royal blood to his vengeance, but Alfred had respected his brother's death, his grave wasn't touched and his life was preserved.

But the town was on fire, invaded and taken as Ivar once planned.

With the dawn, Hvitserk received a mark on his face to resemble his crown as the third Dane King his brother didn't want to be. But he knew he wouldn't stay as much as Ubbe didn't stay.

He was wounded and tired, but Ivar was avenged and it was time to fulfill his next promise.

"I ordered them to build a shrine for you, brother. They must start soon and the Danes ensured me they'll use the stones from the royal castle to build it around your grave," Hvitserk said, touching the stones of the simple tomb he had rose with his own hands. "They'll paint runes and make sacrifices. And this place shall be marked with your story, my brother. No one will ever forget who you were and, in the future, when they find this place, everyone will know here is the grave of the great Ivar, the Boneless, son of Ragnar Loðbrók, feared by many around the world and for whom this land fell into our hands."

His fingers caressed the stone as if he could touch Ivar's face once again.

"But now I think you know I have to go... And leave you behind, brother. For you'll be always alive in my heart, but she's waiting for me. I know I never told you anything about her... I had my reasons, you know them very well," he sighed. "I did it all for you, Ivar. And if she ever gives me a son, I'll name him after you, so he can keep telling your story throughout the years. I'll never forget you, brother. Hail and farewell, Ivar. We'll see each other again when the time comes..."

Leaving behind the first hacksilver of his necklace as a gift to his brother, Hvitserk left, mounting his horse and riding towards the docks where a Dane boat was already waiting for him, ready to take him home.

For a moment, Hvitserk placed his eyes on that land once again. Maybe it was the last time he would ever see that cursed place. Maybe one day he would come back to see Sigurd and Ivar and his father as well. Or maybe, like Ivar, he would come and die there alongside the ones he loved. The time would say. Fate would say.

He was finally coming home.

The boat took ages to make a trip he didn't remember was that long. Ingrid was the new queen and he could see the awe in her eyes when he jumped out of that boat, holding himself whole in spite of his tiredness.

"We thought you were..."

"Dead, like my brother. And your husband, I suppose," Hvitserk didn't care about cutting the queen's sentence. "Release your breath, woman. I have my own crown and have no interest in the one on your head. You're Harald's wife and he was Norway's king. This is now your problem, but still, my homelands so get used to having me walking around from time to time," he said, carelessly pointing down to the ground. "Now you excuse me, your highness... I have more important matters to treat. Spare me from feasts in your hall: The son of Ragnar may be back home, but I'm tired, exhausted... All I want is to find my woman and rest in her arms."

"Your what?"

But he left Ingrid and her whole surprise behind, walking away from the boat as the Danes were preparing to move with their trip. They wouldn't stay. He wouldn't come back, at least, for now.

If he ever had to die in those cursed lands, he would do it like his father: before growing too old.

After living his whole life.

His steps were still limping and for a moment, he giggled, remembering how Ivar had limped that whole pier under horrible words where now there were smiles and grateful faces blessing his return. Would they bless if Ivar was back as well?

Oh, they would. But his brother wanted more than just their blessings.

And he wanted more than just their words.

Hvitserk straightened his cloak. His limping steps walking through the streets with many memories, sometimes sad memories, sometimes sweet ones. And as his steps shortened the distance towards his cabin, the sweetest memories came, remembering him of his sneaky movements through those streets to find you without his little brother's eyes over him. The kisses you'd exchanged. Your hands against his skin.

His heart pounded when his eyes finally reached that door. It was still the same... The cabin was still exactly as his memories could build it in his mind. But it was silent and it, for a moment, stopped everything into Hvitserk's heart.

Could it be that the news of his death had sent you away for good?

Did he take too long to come back? Did someone tell you he was turned into a Christian and you believed it was for real?

His fingers touched the door and he hesitated before knocking on it.

What if you weren't there to answer?

What if there was another with you in his place now?

It was easier to burn down the Christians' village than it was to knock on his own house's door, but the sound of footsteps inside approaching the door turned Hvitserk's mind completely blank for a second.

The lock was opened and his eyes watched as the light from outside invaded the darkened cabin, covering your figure and showing the pale tones of your apron dress.

"Now it's not a good time, I'm..."

Your voice died into your throat. And your eyes met his in a long moment of silence where the whole world seemed to be stopped along with time itself.

Hvitserk could watch as the line of your eyes filled slowly with tears. He observed as the tears became thicker and broke the line, rolling down your face. Your beautiful face... He thought so many times he would never see you again.

You sobbed, losing the strength of your legs. And Hvitserk held you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his chest once again.

It wasn't one more of his dreams. You were there.

He was home.

His scent invaded your nose and your sobs engulfed you whole as you nestled into his arms, holding him so tight that your knuckles became white against his clothes.

"Shh... Hush, my sweet love. I'm here now. I'm here with you," he mumbled as your sobs became louder.

You thought he was dead.

They told you he was dead.

You cried your soul out on that pier, begging the gods to drag your body into the waters and allow you to swim towards him into Valhalla as queen Gunnhild had done after her beloved Björn.

But instead, they held you back.

And as Hvitserk's hands cupped your face before he could seal his lips against yours, tasting your flavors he missed so bad once again, you understood why the gods had given you a reason to keep yourself alive.

It was for him. You were his gift.

And the gods had decided to bless him once more.

"I brought it back to you, my love," he said, giving your pendant back with his necklace. "The other... I left with him," he mumbled.

Eyes full of sadness for his brother you knew wouldn't come back with him.

You gave back his arm ring, caressing his hand as he smiled.

"I thought I would never see you again," he mumbled.

His warm and big hand caressing your face, drying the tears from it before you could finally speak between the sobs.

"They told us you were dead, my sweet prince. I mourned alone and wanted to follow you into Valhalla to serve your feast. But the gods forbade me. They took my freedom for it wasn't my choice anymore."

Hvitserk looked at you curious, not understanding your words until you brought him into the cabin enough for his eyes to land on the basket over his bed.

"They filled me with life and entrusted me with your legacy. I couldn't go. They made me stay. And now I understand that's because you're here, my love. You're back to me."

There weren't words in his mouth anymore.

Hvitserk's steps limped towards the bed and he sat, looking at that basket with surprise and admiration. Inside, a pair of icy blues was facing him, remembering him of so much in his life inside those little eyes.

Ragnar's eyes.

Ubbe's eyes.

Ivar's eyes...

All looking at him into the little one's orbs as his son was trying to eat his own hand, hungry like himself.

"His name is Herleifr, son of Hvitserk. For he's indeed the son of a warrior and I wanted him to know where he came from..." you mumbled as Hvitserk gently lifted the little one from the basket, holding the baby against his chest.

This time it was his eye line unable to hold back his tears as his fingers gently touched the little one's hands and face.

He had seen so much death...

He had lost so much on that trip...

His hands had buried his own little brother and burned that town to the ground, but now, they were holding his future.

Hvitserk giggled.

"Herleifr... My brother shall forgive me once again. I must have to produce another so I can name it after him as I promised," he said, making you smile at his teary face.

You came closer, caressing his cheeks, drying his tears.

"We shall take care of you, my precious prince. And so, when you're healed, we shall produce as many heirs you think you want to honor all the ones you lost and more," you smiled, feeling his hand touching your face, pulling you closer so he could kiss you that way you loved so bad.

The baby cooed in his hand when your lips separated from each other and Hvitserk smiled.

"Now I'm home... Now... I'm back where I belong," he said, touching his forehead to yours, caressing your face with his thumb. "In your arms, my love. I belong in your arms and this is my place in this world."

For a second, Hvitserk could feel Ivar's eyes over him. And he smiled remembering he could be there to watch for him.

"Valhalla will wait," he said, almost being able to hear his little brother's giggle as he caressed your face, smiling at you. "I have a whole dynasty to produce with you first."

His time to find his beloved ones at Valhalla would come, he knew that. But until there, he would enjoy his place in Miðgarð and produce as many heirs as you were up to bear for him.

His time to fight was over for now and now it was time for him to be happy. And he would, by your side.

By your side, he would.

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dreamypeaches · 4 years

Text

let’s hear it for the boy | jj maybank x reader

summary: you take on the role of jj’s hype woman as his insecurities begin to overwhelm him.

warnings: alcohol use, cursing, allusions to sex

word count: 2k

a/n: i listened to this song (let’s hear it for the boys by deniece williams) on the way to work the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about how much it applies to jj. so here’s this tooth rotting fluff fic. i threw another parks and rec reference in. idk what it is but jj and his girl give me subtle april and andy vibes. enjoy :)

This was not the first time you had ended up like this with JJ. Curled up on his bed in the Chateau, holding him close as he complained about his dad or the Kooks or just life in the Outer Banks. Tonight was different though. JJ had fallen deeper into his thoughts than ever before, picking out every one of his flaws and insecurities and laying them out bare for you.

You listened with a frown on your face as your boyfriend continued to shit on himself. Usually you would stay quiet, inserting kind words here and there, but letting him vent to you until he was finished or he fell asleep. Tonight, however, you had to interrupt when JJ took it too far.

“I’m such a piece of shit, Y/N, why are you even with me? You should just fucking leave, I’m sure you would be a lot happier.”

“Hey!” You nearly shouted, causing JJ to jump from your arms and turning to look at you with wide eyes. You sat up on your knees, taking JJ’s face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. You’d had enough. Tonight, you were going to tell this magnificent boy in front of you just how amazing he is.

“I love you, JJ! I’m not going anywhere! You are the most amazing person I have ever met!”

JJ’s eyes softened slightly at the words, but right now is insecurity was louder than your voice.

“You shouldn’t be with a guy like me. I’m going to hurt you, Y/N. I’m going to say something I don’t mean and fuck it all up because that’s just who I am. I’m just a dirty Pogue from the Cut.”

You released his head and shook your own.

“JJ, you can’t really believe that.” You spoke. Words of encouragement and adoration tumbled from your lips as you began to discuss exactly why JJ was the best man in the world.

He ain't got much to say

But he loves me, loves me, loves me

I know that he loves me anyway

JJ always had a way with words. He could lie his way out of any situation and charm himself into another one. Hell, he had found a way to charm you into his life. But when he finally had you, he started falling for you hard. The words suddenly became stuck in his throat, all the love and emotions he felt for you falling to the wayside. It frustrated him, not being able to find the words to tell you how much he loved you. You knew though.

With you, JJ didn’t have a way with words, he had a way of making you feel loved with just a single touch. The way he held you close to him at a Kegger, his hand in yours helping you onto the Pogue, the passionate kisses and bruising grip on your hips as he pounded into you. He didn’t have to say it. You knew he loved you, beyond a doubt.

And maybe he don't dress fine

But I don't really mind

'Cause every time he pulls me near

I just wanna cheer

Your sister was getting married, and all the Pogues were invited. Standing in your bridesmaids dress by your parents at the entrance to the venue, you saw the familiar orange van pull up and the door slide open. John B jumped out with Sarah, wearing a nice shirt and pants that his girlfriend surely picked out for him. Pope was next, and you recognized the suit he was wearing as the same one he wore to his scholarship interview. In a beautiful, but simple sundress, Kiara popped out behind Pope. Trailing behind them, your eyes softened at your boyfriend, who wore the only button up shirt he owned with a pair of khaki cargo shorts, his usual black boots, and his signature red hat sitting backward on his head. You felt your mother tense up beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “What on earth is JJ wearing?”

You ignored your mom, too busy grinning at your approaching boyfriend. His grin was just as wide, scooping you up in his arms and kissing you hard.

“Hello my beautiful girlfriend!”

“Hi my interestingly dressed boyfriend.” He put you down, stepping back and looking down at himself before meeting your eyes.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” He questioned with a furrowed brow. You giggled and pulled him back to you, shaking your head.

“Nothing, baby, you look amazing,” You said truthfully.

“Damn right I do.”

Let's hear it for the boy

Let's give the boy a hand

Let's hear it for my baby

JJ buried his face in your chest as you spoke. You ran your finger though his hair, feeling him groan as you finish talking about the wedding.

“God, that fit was so terrible.”

“Yeah, it was, but it was also super adorable, just like you.”

He groaned again making you giggle.

“Do remember what happened at the reception though?” You asked. He shook his head and peeked up at you. A small smile on your face, you recount the night with stars in your eyes.

You know you gotta understand

Maybe he's no Romeo

But he's my loving one-man show

Let's hear it for the boy

JJ held you close on his lap as you sat with the rest of the Pogues. You watched your sister dancing with her new wife, a small smile on your face. Kiara poked you, stealing your attention away.

“So, when are you two gonna tie the knot?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows. The hands on your thighs tightened their grip and you turned to look at JJ. He had a drunken smirk on his face as he gazed down at you.

“What do you say, sunshine? Wanna get married? Wedding sex is always amazing, imagine what it’s like when your the one getting married,” He said, winking.

You scoffed, turning back around and getting up from his lap.

“How romantic, J,” You say before walking off toward the bar. Kie slapped the back of JJ’s head, giving him a look that said What the hell?

JJ sighs and stands, following after you.

“Baby…” JJ stands before you as you take your drink from the bartender, not meeting his eyes. He grips your hip with one hand, the other gently taking your chin and tilting it up. You sigh and push his arm away.

“It’s fine, JJ, I know you were just joking.”

“What makes you say that?”

You freeze looking back at him, stomach fluttering at the sincere look on his face. Taking your hand, he pulls you closer, brushing your hair behind your ear and resting his palm on your cheek.

“I want to marry you, sunshine, more than anything. I’m sorry for the shit proposal, but I’ll make it up you.”

You grin up at him.

“Promise?”

He leans down, lips ghosting over yours.

“Promise.”

JJ was on his side now, head propped up on his hand. He was smiling down at you as he remembered the night with you.

“I still haven’t made it up to you.”

“Oh you have, a million times over.”

My baby may not be rich

He's watching every dime

But he loves me, loves me, loves me

We always have a real good time

Dates with JJ were always special. He pulled out all the stops, using whatever tips or extra cash he had made that week to get you a special dinner or a gift. Some weeks were less successful than others, and this was one of them. Most of his money had gone to his bike, which was in the shop. But his empty wallet wasn’t going to stop him from showing his girlfriend a good time.

You grinned as you pulled up to the Chateau, seeing your boyfriend waiting for you near the dock. You hopped out of your car and raced down to him, jumping into his arms. After a long kiss, you rest your forehead on his.

“How was your day?” You ask.

“Better now that I have you, sunshine.”

He sets you down and takes your hand, leading you down the dock to the HMS Pogue. A blanket is laid out in the back with some pillows scattered around, along with a cooler with two wine glasses sitting on top of it. JJ helps you into the boat, kissing your hand before releasing it and moving to start the boat.

The colors of the sunset are painting the sky in beautiful oranges, purples, and pinks by the time JJ stops the boat and throws down the anchor. He joins you on the blanket, opening up the cooler and pulling out a bottle of wine, a carton of strawberries, and a jar of Nutella. As he popped open the bottle and poured the wine into the glass, you shook your head at him.

“J, you’ve really out done yourself.”

He grins, handing you your glass.

“Yeah, well, wait till you taste the wine. It was like twelve bucks at the gas station.”

“I think we can agree that all wine tastes the same, and if you spend more than $15 on wine, then you are very stupid.”

JJ raised his glass with a wink, “I’ll drink to that.”

You spend the rest of the night cuddling on the Pogue, eating strawberries and getting wine drunk, watching as the colorful sky faded into a dark, sparkling one. As you got ready to head back to shore, you pulled JJ in for a passionate kiss.

“How did I get so lucky?” You questioned.

“Nah, sunshine, I’m the lucky one.”

And maybe he sings off-key

But that's all right by me, yeah

A karaoke machine, some cheap liquor, and a very drunk JJ Maybank was an amazing combination. Being just as drunk, if not drunker, you couldn’t stop your laughter as the love of your life terribly sang Dear Maria, Count Me In at the top of his lungs. He fell into your lap, face scrunched together at the intensity with which he was singing. You clapped louder than any of the other Pogues, who were just as far gone as you, as JJ sang the final words. He dropped his head dramatically, looking up quickly to sweep his hair out of his face without touching it. As JJ took your hand, pulling you up for a duet, you silently thanked Kie’s parents for cleaning out their basement and not throwing away the shitty karaoke machine from Kiara’s 11th birthday.

'Cause what he does, he does so well

Makes me wanna yell

Let's hear it for the boy

“I love you, J. You’re the greatest person in the whole fucking universe, aliens included. You’re the best friend and the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. Don’t let anyone, especially yourself, tell you differently.”

You rolled over to straddle JJ, taking his head in your hands.

Let's give the boy a hand

Let's hear it for my baby

“I love you, JJ Maybank. I will scream it from the rooftops because everyone needs to know that I am dating the most amazing man I have ever known. But right now, I want just you to hear it. You’re amazing, JJ Maybank.”

You kiss his cheek.

“You’re the funniest guy.”

You kiss the other cheek.

“You have great music taste, but a terrible singer.”

You kiss an eyelid,

“You plan the most amazing dates.”

then the other.

“You make me feel loved.”

A kiss on the forehead.

“Cherished.”

A kiss on the chin.

“Adored.”

You dive in for an intense and hungry kiss, soon pulling away to look deep into his crystal blue eyes.

“Loved.” You whisper. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you close to bury hie head in your chest. You feel tears begin to soak your shirt as he trails kisses across the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“God, I love you so much, sunshine. You’re my whole fucking world.”

He pulls you down for another kiss, rolling you over onto your back. His hands wander your body as he prepares to make you feel as good as you make him.

Let's hear it for the boy

Let's hear it for my man

Let's hear it for my baby

taglist + moots: @jjmaybby @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @rekrappeter @diverdcwn @rafecameron @prejudic3 @starlightstarkey @https-luna @sunnypogue @obxmxybxnk @jjmayybank @bluesiderudy @socialwriter @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @jjbinghams @outerbanksbro @poguestyleskye @softstarkey @bricksatanakinswindow @drewsephsmiles @poguemackin @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @broken-jj

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx fic #my writing

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anarcoqueer1994 · 3 years

Text

So I wrote this and I'm pretty proud it. Some pre-serum 1930s Stucky, period accurate homophobia. If you like it I linked my ao3 for the other two chapters. Am I cringy? Probs but whateves

It is probably one of the coldest winters Bucky could remember. He was thankful that the end of the day was finally here. The biting temperatures were amplified by the air off of the cold water. More importantly though, going home meant he could go check on Steve, his tenement mate, and long-time best friend. Steve have come down with a bout of pneumonia a couple weeks back. He is still fighting to get his strength back, still breaking out in coughing fits and struggling to get around. His weak immune system made sure that it was not going to be easy to get over this. Honestly, Bucky hated that he had to leave him alone all day to work, but they needed the money to afford the rent, even if their tenement was too small and the heat wasn’t the best. So Bucky just spent the day going through the worse possible scenarios in his head. What if Steve got worse while he was away? What if Steve fell somewhere in the apartment because he is too stubborn to stay in bed, and now couldn’t get up? Was he laying their freezing not able to get back to his bed? What if he…dies because I am not there to help him? But now he could get home and check on Steve.

“James!’ Bucky turned around to hear Bill calling after, as he walking away for the day. Bill was another one of the grunt workers at dock. Nice enough guy, kind of rough. Probably his closest “work friend.” Bucky waits for him to catch up.

“Yea?” he says casually, trying not to show the impatience in his voice for the man that is unknowingly delaying him from getting to Steve.

“Want to go get a drink with some of the guys? Maybe we’ll run into some dames desperate enough for a good time to give your ugly mug a chance?” He wiggles his eye brows jokingly.

“No thanks, I’m good, actually.” Bucky replies, turning to leave.

“Oh come on, you never come out. Let loose a little, pal.” Bill pushes.

“I just need to get home…” Bucky responds, a little annoyed at this point because of the hold up.

“What’s the rush?”

“It’s just Steve is at home and he’s expecting me.” Bucky lies. Steve wouldn’t care if he went out. He would tell Bucky he deserves it. In actuality, he was too worried to go out and have fun, not when Steve was at home, miserable.

“Come on then, invite him out too. You guys can meet us at the bar.” Bill offers.

“Maybe another night, Steve is pretty sick. Getting over pneumonia.” Bucky goes to turn away again.

“Then why are you in a rush?” He laughs. “If he’s sick, he’s probably just laying down in bed. No need to babysit.”

Bucky ignores he question and just repeats, “Like I said, maybe another night.”

Bill lets out a little amused huff. “Interesting.”

His tone of voice gets the better of Bucky. “Interesting? What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky interrogates.

“Nothing, man. Forget about it.” Bill half-heartedly replies.

Bucky of course will not forget about it. “No, what did you mean?” His voice a little more irritated sounding then he intended.

Bill shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “It’s just some of the guys…”

“Some of the guys, what?” Bucky urges.

“Some of the guys say you’re a little funny, you know.” Many of the guys on the crew have grown up in the same neighborhood as Steve and Bucky and as such have known them, or at least seen them for a long time.

Bucky feels a sudden weight on his chest but does not let it show. “Funny how, Bill?” though he is terrified that he know what he means.

“You know, you and that roommate are pretty close and have been for a long time. Sometimes it just appears…” he hesitates, thinking about how to say it. “It appears like you treat him how you would treat a dame you were into. It just seems a little queer.” From behind Bill, he could see some of the guys eavesdropping. Some are smirking, and a few other are snickering. Some even are shooting disgusted looks at Bucky.

Bucky stops his face from faltering from the apathetic look he has put on. He replies loud enough for those assholes who are listening in to hear. “Well, I can assure you Bill, that Steve is my best friend, and that’s all, okay?” In reality, his heart is beating through his chest. Had it been that obvious that he liked Steve? How long have they been passing stories about this.

Bill cracks a smile and slaps Bucky on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I knew those guys had to wrong about you. Come out and join us later if you change your mind.” Bill gives Bucky the name of the bar they’ll be at, as he politely listens, not intending on changing his mind. As he leaves, he can tell a lot of the guys do not seem to believe him.

Walking home, Bucky was stuck in his head. He didn’t think people could tell how he felt about Steve. Did he act more like Steve’s fella than his friend? How could they tell? To be fair, he hadn’t been lying about Steve just being his friend. Just because Bucky was a little “light in the loafers”, did not mean that he feelings for Steve were requited. Steve was such a good guy and a model Catholic. No way was Steve into him the same way.

Probably for the best since guys liking other guys that way wasn’t looked on very favorably. The anti-sodomy laws made that clear. Plus, he didn’t particularly like the idea of having to get into fist fight with guys who may make a remark at him…or god forbid Steve.

He shakes his, getting himself out of his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about these what ifs anymore. Maybe he would try harder to act less like a boyfriend to Steve and more like his super manly, non-homosexual, best friend. Its’s not like he didn’t like women, he just preferred Steve more. But he could be less doting. He didn’t need to babysit his best friend. Bill was right, Steve was probably just sleeping and didn’t need him. Maybe he would just stop at home, check in momentarily, and then take them up on his offer to drink with the guys. He hypes himself up in his head as he reaches the steps leading up to his door. These thoughts left his head as soon as he opened the door.

He could hear a pretty bad coughing fit from the bedroom. The place was freezing. The shitty radiator must be on the fritz. It was warmer than outside but not by much. It couldn’t be more than 40 degrees in that house, the paper-thin walls doing little to keep the heat in. Bucky makes his way to the little gas stove. The tenement was only 3 rooms, the front room that consisted of a little seating area and a modest kitchen (if you van call it that. It was a little sink and gas stove, with one cupboard), the bathroom (the only room with a door), and their share bedroom. He turns on the oven, and leaves it open so the heat could radiate through out the place. He discards his shoes and jacket in the front room. Then he quietly makes his way to the back bedroom, not knowing if the previous coughing fit indicated if he was a wake or not. If Steve was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him.

When he walks through the doorway to bedroom, his friend is huddled under some the blankets. He notices that Steve is still covered in his own blanket, as well Bucky’s blanket that he had laid on top of him this morning when he left for work. Steve’s face sticks out slightly even though he pulled the blanket over his head. He is definitely not feeling great. He is awake but kind of staring off in the distance. His usual pale features somehow look paler when punctuated with the dark circles under his eyes. Of course, he hasn’t slept well in a while, constantly being woken up in fits of coughing and wheezing. He hasn’t noticed that Bucky has walked in. There is no way Bucky can leave and go to the bar though after seeing this.

“Hey Stevie.” Bucky puts on a smile, knowing that Steve hates when Bucky stares at him like some pathetic sick thing. Steve looks up and for a moment it looks like a light entered his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. Bucky likes to think he did not imagine it and Steve genuinely lights up because of him. Probably wishful thinking but it’s a nice though.

“Hey Buck!” He tries to sound stronger than he felt. He hated making Bucky worry but he knew his friend, He inevitably is. He pushes himself up lamely to rest his back against the wall behind his mattress. He is still wrapped up in the blankets, still shivering faintly. “So how was work?” Steve asks, just kind of wanting to talk to Bucky. He would never admit it to Bucky, but he hated feeling alone all day while the other man was at work.

Bucky makes his way across the room, sitting on the little wooden stool by Steve’s bed so he could face his friend. His smile had disappeared momentarily when Bucky thought back to conversation he had right before leaving. But he recovers quicky to reply. “Nothing special. Cold as hell though. And this damn apartment is freezing, not making it any better.”

“Yea, I think the radiator is busted. Tried to tell the sup, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry Buck.” He gives a sad smile. Times like this made Steve feel so useless, couldn’t even make sure the heat was working so Bucky was cold after working outside all day.

“No problem, pal. Tomorrow’s my day off. I’ll handle it.” Bucky smiles before realizing how sad Steve still looks. He leans over and puts his hand on Steve’s blanket covered shoulder. “Buddy, I promise it is not a big deal, you cannot help that you are sick.”

Steve sighs miserably. “Doesn’t mean, it doesn’t make me feel pretty worthless. For god sakes, look how pathetic I am. I have both blankets and am still shivering like some babe.” He averts his eyes to his lap, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

This breaks Bucky’s heart, to hear how little Steve thinks about himself. Steve Rogers had the biggest heart out of everyone he knows. He has gotten into so many fights (that he could not win) just because he saw some in justice. Steve was the best person he has ever met so hearing this from him is difficult. “Stevie…” the familiar nickname instinctively causes Steve to look back at Bucky. “I hate to tell you this, bud, but you are wrong. You are pretty great and all this stuff about being worthless or pathetic, is bullshit.”

Steve lets out a nervous huff before quietly whispering “Thanks, Buck…”

“Anytime.” Bucky smiles back at him.

“But, umm hey Bucky…”

“Yeah?”

“Here...” Steve starts to shimmy out the outer blanket belonging to the slightly older man.

“Hey no…” Bucky puts up his hands to signal to stop. “You need that, it is freezing in here and you are sick.”

“Yea but we can’t have you getting sick, either Buck. You may not have my immune system but you can get still get sick.

“Steve.” Bucky says firmly. “I will not take that blanket from you.”

Steve sighs, sometimes Bucky can be as stubborn as he is. “Fine but I can’t have you freezing to death. Come up here. We can share the blanket,” Steve says it so matter-of-factly, like nothing he said was weird. And I guess it wasn’t it is not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Except, in light the conversation at work Bucky can’t help but to start to over think it. Luckily for him, Steve clears his throat to get Bucky’s attention when he notices him staring off. “Hey Buck…did you hear me? Come on, get up here.”

Bucky wants to get up there, god knows he does. To Steve it seemed to be a very practical thing, cold apartment, limited blankets, two bodies make more heat than one, etc. But to Bucky, it felt like so much more. He loved being that close to Steve. And that was his problem. Thinking fast he says “I should start supper. I’m going to heat up the stew for us that Mrs. Andrews dropped off yesterday.” Mrs. Andrews being the nice widow from upstairs.

“Oh…” Steve says before letting a smile come back to his face. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would say Steve almost sounded disappointed. He did not allow himself to dwell on it too long. Instead, he quickly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. He throws the small pot of stew on the stoves so he can warm it up.

After a few minutes, he hears Steve shuffle into the room. It really was much warmer in that since the oven, and now the stove, have been on. Steve takes a quiet seat at their modest table.

“You didn’t have to come out. I would have brought you dinner, Stevie.” Bucky says, eyes on the pot in front of him.

“S’okay, I needed to stretch my legs…” No sooner did he say that, did another coughing fit came on. It sounded almost painful, and Bucky could only imagine how raw Steve’s throat must feel. He made his was to his friend, carrying a handkerchief to help with the mess of snot and flem coming from the other man. He stops in front of his friend, crouching down to be on his level. Bucky patiently waits for it to pass before handing his friend the little piece of cloth.

“Thanks Buck…” Steve said almost like he was embarrassed. Bucky instinctively squeezes Steve’s knee reassuringly, before smiling softly and getting back up. He walks back to the pot on the stove. Okay, he thinks to himself. I may be a little too doting. What Bucky did not see when he turned around was Steve smiling at him.

The rest of dinner is uneventful, give or take a few coughs and shivers. When they finished eating, Bucky has to turn off the oven He doesn’t want to leave it on all night, doesn’t want to risk a fire. It is still pretty early in the evening, only about 7:30 but he can see Steve is exhausted.

Steve stands up, but momentarily loses his balance. Bucky, overreacting, stands up and catches Steve before the smaller man can even try to catch himself. They find themselves in a precarious situation. Steve is leaning is weight against Bucky’s chest, as Bucky’s arm is wrapped around the skinnier man’s waist. Bucky’s cheeks turn red as Steve stares curiously at him.

After what felt like years of silence, Bucky lets go of Steve, realizing his friend must be confused. “Uh sorry, thought you were going to fall.” Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

Steve yawns and says “Thanks, I almost did.” He actually flashes bucky a warm smile that honest to god gave the brunette butterflies. Get it together, Barnes. He thinks to hisself, as he watches Steve walk away to their room. He follows noting the apartment temperature going down again.

When Bucky gets to the room, he finds that Steve has set his blanket on his bed. “I told you Stevie, you need this more than me.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Steve says between shivers under his own blanket. “Can’t have you getting sick too. And you are being weird.”

“What do you mean by weird?” Bucky cocks his head to the side.

“Well, it would make more sense to share a bed, two blankets and two bodies would be warmer, and we have done it a thousand times. But ever since you got home from work, you seem off. So take your blanket, punk.” Steve stares at his bewildered friend.

Bucky hates that Steve is so observant. He hadn’t meant to be weird. But now his stubborn friend was going to freeze tonight because he refused to not let Bucky have a blanket. He lets out an exasperated sigh, plays up the drama of course. “Fine. You win. Sharing a bed it is.”

Steve beams at him. Bucky should of know Steve would win this out. With Bucky, Steve could have anything he wanted. He had to face it, he was wrapped around the younger man’s finger.

Bucky makes his way to a pile of books on the ground, grabbing his copy of The Hobbit, before stepping out of his pants, leaving him in a shirt and briefs. He takes the book and his blanket over to Steve’s bed. He scoots into bed with Steve, both men adjusting so that the blankets now cover of them, their bodies inevitably touching on the small, twin size bed. Bucky sets his book on the nightstand, knowing Steve will fall asleep first and he’ll probably do some reading.

Bucky suddenly freezes when he feels Steve lie his head on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown over the other man’s abdomen. Bucky’s arms are currently under his own head. This is new. Usually, they only got in this position through accidental readjusting while they are sleeping. Stuff that Bucky could just brush off. But now an awake Steve Roger’s is cuddling with an awake Bucky Barnes. He hopes that Steve cannot feel his heart racing in his chest. He continues to look up at the ceiling, hoping to nullify the blush creeping up his face.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice the other man’s reaction, or if he does, he hides it well. He whispers “Is this okay? I’m really cold and I guess I am trying to steal your body heat.” Steve’s voice sounds shy, almost embarrassed.

Of course, when Steve puts it like that, how can Bucky say no? He internally scolds himself for reading more into it. He tries to let out a casual laugh, though it sounded way more choked then intended. He lamely jokes. “That’s why you were trying to get me into bed. To use me?” He finally looks down at his chest, trying to see if his friend laughs. Instead, he is met with questioning blue eyes, genuinely concerned if this was alright. Even with only the dim light of a small bedside lamp, he can’t help but notice how those eyes sparkle. Bucky lets out a small, controlled, sigh and quietly whispers, “Steal away, buddy.”

“Buck?” Steve’s voice sounding even smaller this time. Bucky can’t remember Steve sounding so nervous about anything. He begins to panic internally even as he tries to stay cool externally.

“Yea Stevie?”

“You can say no, okay?” Steve whispers nervously.

“Steve what is it?” His voice more audibly concerned this time.

“Will put your arms around me? I feel like I just can’t get warm.” The way Steve asks is heartbreaking to Bucky, like he was worried Bucky would be upset.

For the first time, Bucky notices that Steve is still shivering. He had been so wrapped up by the way he felt having the smaller man so physically intimate with him, that he didn’t realize that the cold really was getting to Steve. He can tell by the way Steve was acting, he was embarrassed to make these requests. He knows Steve could be a proud man and to be in the position where he had to be so vulnerable was probably hard for him. So Bucky didn’t want to make it a thing, where Steve would feel obligated to have to say more. This was obviously tough enough. So without a word, he wrapped one arm around Steve, as the other fell over his own chest so that he cook connected his hands, locking Steve in, and trying to pull him as close as possible, trying his hardest to warm his sick friend.

Steve didn’t say a word, just flashed a tiny appreciative smile. They laid there in silence for a while before he finally heard Steve’s breath steady in a way that indicated that sleep finally overtook him. Bucky frowned because even in his sleep, the other man’s breaths seemed labored and congested. He hated that this was Steve’s life, that he couldn’t fix this for him. But at least he could help him for tonight. Bucky would be content spending the rest of his life as Steve’s best friend, even if it broke his heart know he could never be with Steve the way he wanted to be. This could be enough.

~~~~

A few hours pass by. Bucky had fallen asleep a little bit ago, still with his arms wrapped around the blonde. It is around 1 am when Bucky is disturbed from his sleep. He had become alarmed when he realized that Steve was no longer beside him. He sits up and desperately looks around the dark room, unsuccessfully scanning for his friend. That’s when he spots the soft glow of candlelight through the doorway coming from the front room. He notices both blankets are still in bed with him, so he worries about the offending temperature in the other room where Steve must be.

He makes his way out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets over his shoulders, and walks to the front room. Luckily, he found when he got in there, that Steve had turned one the oven filling the tiny front room with warmth. He spotted Steve sitting on their tiny old couch, kind of staring off. Bucky clears his throat, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, still lost in his thoughts.

So, Bucky steps a little closer, stopping when he is a few feet away from his friend. A candle sits on the little crate they use as side table, the dim light barely illuminating his friend’s face. “Hey, bud. Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky says softly.

Steve doesn’t bother looking up, just keeps staring a head. He mumbles. “Was woken…up by something. You can go back to bed.” Steve looks visibly shaken and Bucky was absolutely not going to be able to just go back to bed.

Bucky instead takes a seat next to his rigid friend. Something was definitely not right. The way that Steve was sitting so stiffly, his face was distorted into a broken frown. At this level, Bucky can also tell his friend had been crying, blood shot eyes lit a glow from the candle. “Steve…buddy what’s wrong?” Bucky instinctively goes to rest his hand on the other man’s boney knees. To his surprise, Steve pulls his knee away, repulsed, still not looking at him.

Fear flashed through Bucky’s head. Had he done something? Had something happened while they were sleeping. Had Steve realized the way Bucky looked at him was wrong. He was trying to panic but that seemed fruitless. “Stevie…did I do something wrong?” Bucky didn’t recognize the voice that came out of his mouth. It seemed so broken and pathetic.

Steve let out a pained sigh, before momentarily pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes, like he was forcing back tears. Finally, he turned and looked at Bucky. He sounded frail; his voice laced with sadness. “No Buck…never. You could never do anything wrong. Its me…I am the something wrong here.”

Bucky immediately got defensive, worry coating his words. “What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong? Please tell me why you would say something like that?” He may have been a little louder than he intended, as he felt terrible as he watched Steve recoil at his tone. He lowers his voice before softly placing his hand back on Steve’s knee, this time the younger man letting it rest there. “I’m…I’m sorry for yelling, Stevie. Can you please just tell me what happened. I am sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He watches as a tear starts to well up in Steve’s eye again, as he obviously tries to will it to stop before it falls defiantly down his cheek. The dam is broken and Bucky watches helplessly as his best friend falls apart in front of him. Without thinking, he throws his arms around Steve pulls him into a hug. Steve buries his head in Bucky’s shoulder, repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry.” Bucky quietly shushes him, while running his hand over the back of Steve’s neck, trying to sooth his friend.

After what seemed like an eternity, Steve pulls away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Bucky’s eyes are still riddled with worry, his eyebrows scrunched together trying to figure out what could be wrong. Steve whispers “I might as well show you; you will see eventually anyways.”

Bucky feels his chest tighten. What could be so bad that Steve would be this freaked out. He tentatively nods his head, preparing for whatever it could be.

“Buck?” Steve questions.

“Yea, buddy?” He replies automatically.

“Thank you for being my friend and …” There was a sad hesitation in his voice before he continues. “And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anymore after tonight.”

That thought breaks Bucky’s heart in two. A choked breath escapes him. “Trust me…that’s not going to happen. “

Steve can only give a disbelieving, sad smile in reply. Bucky is now terrified at what could have caused this all.

Without saying a word, Steve picks up the candle and walks to the door that leads outside of their tenement. Bucky gets the idea that he should be following him. When Bucky catches up with him, he notices Steve’s hand shaking as he reaches for the doorknob. Bucky does not rush him, knowing that whatever this was, it was hard. Before long though, Steve opens the door and steps outside. Bucky follows close behind. For as cold as it was inside, the outside was colder. Steve didn’t even seem bothered though, too consumed with grief about something to care.

Steve stopped a few feet away from their door and turned back around to face it. For a moment, he thought he was turned around to face Bucky. Bucky starts “Why…why are we out here, Stevie? It is freezing.” Bucky still only in a shirt, underwear and a blanket. Steve had been a little better dress but not sufficiently enough. The only thing that left Steve’s mouth was. , “Look.” As he pointed behind Bucky at their door.

Bucky turned around and he felt like he got punched in the stomach. On the ground around him were a few broken glass bottles, but that wasn’t the issue. The pale light from the candle illuminated 7 angry red letters, painted sloppily in red on their door. Bucky reads the word out loud, simultaneously deflating with each syllable. “FAGGOTS.” He feels like his world is spinning. Did someone know…about him? Was this the guys at his job? Had to be, after the way they looked at him earlier, knowing he was lying. Worse yet, they are throwing Steve into this. Steve didn’t deserve to be taken down with him.

He was broken out of his thought by the weak voice coming from the man slightly behind him. “I…I was woken up by the sound of these guys laughing outside. They sounded drunk…and you know how much of a light sleeper I am. I thought they were going away but then it sounded like they were at the front door. They were still laughing and I heard glass breaking. You were out.” Bucky silently curses that he was such a heavy sleeper as he continues listening, eyes still fixed on the door. “So, I got out of bed to see what was going on. By the time I get to the door, they are running off, and one called me…this before disappearing down the steps. I tried to go after them.”

“Of course, you did…” Bucky replies, not processing it all.

“Yea, well it was too icy and I am too sick, so I couldn’t catch up to them. When I turned to go back inside, I seen this. And…and I am so sorry Buck.” Steve’s voice crumbles, sounding pathetic and sad, and full of hurt.

That’s when Bucky finally turns to face Steve. “Sorry? Sorry for what? None of this is your fault.” His voice is soft, only focusing on his hurting friend, ignoring his own hurt and panic.

Steve lets out a sniffle, Bucky unsure if from the cold or from fresh tears. “That’s where you are wrong. They did this because of me…”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky stares in confusion.

“These guys…they must have found out…found out that I …I am one.” Steve looks to the ground, terrified of Bucky’s reaction. Tears falling to the frozen ground, his skinny body shaking.

Bucky is overwhelmed with emotions. The most prominent of these emotions though was sadness for his hurting friend. Understanding the irony, he was still heartbroken that Steve thought he had to keep this his dirty little secret. This is why Steve thought they wouldn’t be friend anymore. He was lost for words but needed Steve to know that He was there for the long haul and this wasn’t going to change anything. For the second time this evening, he found himself pulling the younger man into a hug, the candle dropping, putting itself out. “s’okay Stevie…it’s okay. I promise…” He keeps repeating as his arms threaten to never let go of Steve again.

After a few moments though, he noticed the blonde shivering. It was still the middle of winter after all. Without saying another word, Bucky pulled away from the hug(reluctantly) before grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. He drags him to the bedroom where the warm bed wait, Steve not putting up much of a fight. When they get to the room though, Steve pulls his hand away and quickly makes his way to his bed. When Bucky makes his way to Steve’s bed, Steve puts up his hands to make the other man stop in his tracks.

“Buck, thank you for not kicking my ass.” Bucky puts on a hurt look, not believing that Steve actually thought he would. Steve explains himself. “Most guys would have knocked someone out if they found out their best friend was a fairy. So, um, thank you for not doing that.” Steve nervously puts his hand on the back of his neck before continuing. “But you don’t have to lay with me anymore. I get that can be weird now knowing…” Steve still refuses to meet his eyes.

Bucky lets out a huff. He can’t let Steve sit here and feel like he is alone. After what Steve confessed, he thought it was only fair. Ignoring, Steve’s protests, Bucky walks to the bed and sits on the edge, facing Steve. The streetlight out the window dully lighting their faces. He rests his hands on his own thighs, suddenly clammy despite the freezing temperatures. He says “I know…” He stutters “I know… who did this.”

“Who?” Steve sounds surprised despite himself.

“Some guys from the job.” Bucky says sadly.

“Why would they do that?” The smaller man responded, confused.

“Today…they asked me if I was that way you know? They thought that I treated you differently then how a guy should treat his friend.”

“Oh…” is all that escapes Steve’s mouth, Bucky watching an “O” form on the other’s lips.

“I…um of course…told them they were wrong but I guess they didn’t believe me. I’m sorry Steve. I guess…um…” Bucky stops, unsure if he wanted to finish.

“You guess what?” Steve asks, curiosity getting the best of him as he finally locks eyes with Bucky.

“I guess I was too obvious, Stevie. Look, I…I don’t know if I am that way. All I know is that I only got eyes for one person and that person is a fella.” Bucky’s face turning pink with the admission.

Steve stares, visibly confused, unsure exactly what Bucky is getting at. He dumbly asks “Who?”

Bucky gives an uncomfortable laugh, obviously apprehensive. “Are you that oblivious, pal? You…Stevie.” As the other man’s name slips from his mouth, he finds himself trying to look anywhere to avoid the gaze of the blue eyes staring into him.

All Steve manages to choke out is “Really?” His voice sound apprehensive and shy But to Bucky’s surprise, it also sounded hopeful. Yea, he already knew Steve was queer but that did not mean that he automatically like Bucky back. But maybe…he did?

It was this hopefulness that gave Bucky the courage to look back at Steve, his own light eyes staring into Steve’s. He can tell his friend was blushing hard, It was adorable, and pretty impressive for someone who was so pale moments ago. Without thinking about it, Bucky reaches his hand across the bed, and rests it on Steve’s shoulder, still safe in the platonic zone if they wanted to turn back. He whispers almost too quietly for Steve to hear. “Yea…really. You know how much I love you, Stevie, Always have. And for a long time, I thought that love was just because you were my best friend, you know? But overtime, I came to accept that the love I felt for you went way beyond that of a friend, even a close friend.” He looks down before looking back up, sporting a small mischievous grin. “Plus, I think you are really fucking hot.”

Steve somehow manages to blush eve harder, Though he was blushing, Steve was never one to back down from something he wanted. With the knowledge that his best friend was just as into him as he is to him, He scoops forward down the bed, so he very close to Bucky. Bucky’s hand had made its way off Steve’s shoulder, to now gently rest on his hip. He moves his head close to Bucky’s. The older man could feel Steve’s breathe on his face as he replies with a nervous smile “Good, because I’ve had eyes for you since were teenagers. I always got jealous when I seen you with a random skirt instead of me.”

Now Bucky was turning as pink as Steve, red hues covering his face and ears. He made Steve jealous?! He couldn’t believe it. Steve really wanted him. He takes his free hand and moves it to the back of Steve’s neck, wanting so bad to kiss him. He whispers “Can I kiss you?” It sounds so silly coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t want to push Steve.

Unfortunately, to his dismay, Steve says “No, Buck…”

Bucky looks down, suddenly feeling defeated. Had he read the signs wrong. Was Steve admitting he loved him too but did not want to pursue such a risky relationship. His head began to spin as he pulled away. “Oh, I/m sorry.”

Steve lets out a little laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to pull away. “I said no because I am still sick, jerk. Trust me I want to kiss you.” Bucky can’t help but laugh at himself too. Steve continues, “But I would like you to stay in bed with me tonight, if that is still okay."

“Of course, it is...anything for you.” He beams.

A few minutes later, they were laying down, Steve’s head on Bucky’s chest like earlier. Except it wasn’t just like earlier. The action was the same but the feelings were different. Earlier, there was tense atmosphere of secrets they were both hiding. But now it felt like it should have always been like this. Like they were complete more complete. Something that had always been there could thrive. Bucky lazily runs his fingers through Steve’s hair as they begin to drift back to sleep. “Buck?” Steve sleepily asks.

“Yea?”

“So you are my best fella now, right?”

Bucky chuckles to himself that Steve would even worry enough to ask. “Right, Stevie.” only getting a soft okay in response. Bucky lays there, waiting for Steve to fall asleep first. Thoughts run through his head, uncertainties about what to do tomorrow about those asshole, and how this is all going to work. But the one thing he doesn’t worry about is the fact that Steve is his and he is Steve’s

Other two chapters, poorly written smut in the second half of chapter 3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30749381/chapters/75892694#workskin

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #steve x bucky #pre serum steve #1930s stucky #captain america #fanfiction

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tisthepoetl · 3 years

Text

There are many stressors in a modern day lifestyle.

Usually these include the looming threat of death, the monotony of working for currency that stopped being useful years ago and deer.

There are so, so many stressed people. Made worse by the apocalypse that didn’t happen, the riots that most definitely happened, and the negotiations that have been “in progress” for the last few years.

The amount of rapid budget changes are stressing out some people. The amount of rapid cultural exchange is stressing people out. If you work in any field, any field at all, you are likely to be stressed as all hell.

Eventually, they have to pick someone on the ship to be shown as an expert negotiator. No one is prepared for this. Most of them are middle men, most of them don’t have a clue what they’re supposed to be doing, and all of them are panicking.

So they drew straws. The most important decision of all time is made by dumb luck, and honestly that’s a pretty good metaphor for everything happening right now.

Name someone on their haphazard crew and they will have a conflict of interest. Name one member and they will be grossly under qualified.

America has four ambassadors out of the eight chosen. Not because they’re the most presentable, or the most qualified, or the best possible choice, but because they overpaid for a privilege nobody wanted.

If all of this goes to hell they're getting the blame. And if they get the blame the only plan is to point at whoever was voluntold to be leader and pray for leniency.

Every part of this is a desperate attempt to stall before the actual powers back home have found a way to bullshit having any actual control of things.

It shows.

It really, really shows.

So, who was the unlucky scapegoat for the possible downfall of all of humanity?

If you guessed Samantha who wasn’t supposed to even be on this ship, you would be correct!!

Seriously, she was the back up for someone who was almost conceivably qualified. Sort of, if you squinted and ignored the fact they were only there via nepotism, only to be pulled out once everyone realized they were sacrificial lambs.

And then the replacement was also saved from this bullshit via bribery and blackmail and probably some other third sketchy thing she doesn’t know about.

So, here she is, Samantha who had planned on changing her name before realizing she wasn’t getting out of this. Samantha, the replacement for the replacement who was chosen by a lottery held only for the illusion of equal opportunity.

There are literally billions and billions of people whose lives will be affected by whatever she ends up doing. Countless children, parents, lovers and friends and siblings. All of whom would either die or live by whatever ends up happening.

Luckily, she has one coping mechanism which never fails: Repression!!

So she thinks about literally anything else. Thinks about her favorite song as the ship nears the giant towering shape of the Galactic Senate’s meeting place. Thinks about fluffy dogs as she is led by the hand through walls and portraits and treasures with descriptions she can’t read because there are no translators yet.

Thinks about her mother, thinks about her sibling, thinks about the fact everyone could literally die and it would be her fault, and wow she’s already here.

The meeting place has a mouthful name that she could only pronounce if she managed to dislocate her jaw, grow a new set of teeth, and get a proboscis. Everyone calls it the Meeting Place, because again, there are no working translators, they all have to rely on vague equivalents.

The Meeting Place is a moon sized ship, so incomprehensibly large that any species will be able to fit. It has a dock, and a large empty room with nothing in it except for alien leaders who could slaughter them all at a whim.

There are no chairs. The temperature is set to “Mildly unpleasant but liveable.” Unity and democracy means that everyone is equally uncomfortable, because this exact temperature is workable for most species.

Samantha feels a chill down her spine, both from the cold and the fact that so many of them are glaring at her. She is in the center, her crew is placed too far away to help her, and their borrowed ship is miles away from where they are now.

She prays to the gods she doesn’t believe in and hopes she can stall well enough for the clusterfuck back home to get their shit together.

“H…” she starts eloquently. She tries to refind where the rest of humanity’s first impression was stationed, but her view is blocked by the hundreds of giant aliens. “He..llo?” she finishes.

There’s a click, and she flinches back because what if that’s a weapon. A small cube clatters to the ground in front of her, before popping up and showing a hologram.

She would be visibly impressed, in awe, if it weren’t for the fact she’s half sure these diplomats could take any reaction as an insult.

She wouldn’t be able to explain herself either, it’s too early for any sort of translator to have been made, it’s too early for anything about human body language to be common knowledge.

The crowd surrounding her rustles, fins are raised and noises are made and colors are changed. It means something, probably, but she can’t tell what.

The hologram cube makes a loud, ear splitting sound, like a mix between a flatlining heart in a movie and a fire alarm going off. It snaps her out of her spiraling.

There are two large lines pointing at a screen that is pulsing with the most neon red she’s ever had the unfortunate luck of seeing. She stares at it, and realizes it’s a quiz.

Well, more like a shitty rushed powerpoint. Like something you would make in under an hour for the fun of it.

It says, “What Human Want [Ask],” and she has the sneaking suspicion that whoever made this wasn’t trying very hard. Underneath are barely recognizable butcherings of numbers, listing answers from one to three.

“1. Want hurt. Want no us. Lone want.”

“1nd. Want love. Want share. Want us help.”

“1rd. Want no meet us. Want late meet. Want lone.”

All of it is….confusing to say the least. At this point she doesn’t even know if this is a joke or not.

Then again this wasn’t supposed to be her job, she doesn’t understand them either, and maybe they were genuinely trying here. But then again there are so many of them, they probably have enough resources to make at least a dozen Earths and this meeting took multiple years to take place.

The red that flashed before flashes again, than flashes a disturbingly real fingerprint on top of the answers.

She presses the second one, and wills herself to not regret it immediately. Love, sharing, help, all of that sounds good.

Except what if the help is from humanity? What if their definition of help, share, love is killing everyone ever living and she just doomed it all?? What if it means—

“[Greeting] [Greeting Happy] [Greeting Love] [Greeting Happy Angry Bored] [Greeting (Deragotory)]” a voice drones through a translation of the crowd. Samantha wonders when this will be over, and if she’s going to die of anxiety before that happens.

“[Greeting Small Childish] [Greeting Sad Fear] [Greeting (Endeared)] [Greeting Pain Hurt] [Greeting Love Fear Pain]” it doesn’t stop, running through every risen scale and moving limb to translate some vague approximation.

The aliens have translators. The translators are awful. This is taking so much time, which is good for the mission of stalling and bad for Samantha’s sanity.

“[Species Name (Derogatory)] [Mother (Derogatory)] [Criminal (Deragot—]“ the whole crowd is making noise, some like barks and some like tweets and some like a monster out of hell.

And all of them seem to be arguing? Or insulting each other? Either way it continues on for a long stretch of time with nothing but noisy aliens and a robotic voice reciting nonsense that always ends in “(Derogatory.)”

“[Wrong: Too long.] [Wrong: Too fast.] [Wrong: No word Human.]” The sounds are longer, most of the crowd making them rising and puffing out to be bigger. “[Plea Slow.] [No Word for Our Word.] [New Local Child Pet Ally speak.] [No word for Our Word.]”

Samantha realizes once again, that she should’ve left when she had the chance. And never entered that stupid lottery.

“[I hate every single one of you.] [Stop! The Ally-New-Child-Local may hear.] [You are all stupid [Species Name]]” the noises transition into understandable sentences. “[The small Diplomat-Traveler will be confused. Stop.] [They are doing fine. They will not understand our words.] [When is that useless translator going to update, Myy-Rrr-Pl?]”

Humanity as a whole can only take so much. One human as a whole can only take so much. She is halfway to a mental breakdown, fully confused and honestly she just wants to go home. This is the kind of wonder she would love if she didn’t have to personally deal with the consequences.

So she goes the way of most unqualified, underpaid workers, and gives up. She isn’t going to scream or sabotage anything, but her ability to feel was already warring with the tempting concept of not giving a fuck.

She speaks, for the second time. “I can hear you. And I don’t much appreciate being called a child.”

“[.....]” the crowd is finally silent. She basks in the peace.

“[I told you to stop confusing the Ambassador.] [Shut up Myy-Rrr-Pl. You didn’t even get these made right, we had to make a presentation, that’s how awful you and your tech were.] [It's working now, okay?]” The peace was lovely while it lasted.

“Humanity wants, uh, to not be dead,” she says. “And to not be enslaved either. Or like used as food.”

“[Can you understand it?] [Of course I can, I’m the one who learned the language.] [You barely learned it. You put half that presentation into a free-use translator.]” they keep talking, keep barking, chirping, hissing over her. “[This is a disaster.] [It’s not that bad. My presentation went over well enough.] [Myy-Rrr-Pl shut your beak about that [intercourse (derogatory)] thing.]”

“CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR ONE SECOND??” Samantha shouts above the arguing ambassadors. There is only so much she can tolerate, the noise alone is irritating but the senseless, contextless bickering is unbearable

“This is ridiculous,” she continues. “I don’t even know what’s going on, none of you dropped us an explanation. Why can I suddenly understand you? Who the hell is Meer-er-pull? And what the fuck is going on?”

There is no more translation, and nothing to translate into constant robotic rambling. There is no peace in the silence, just an underlying tension as every alien in the room turns to stare her in the eyes.

She wonders if she’s fucked up, if she’s doomed literally all of humanity because she couldn’t tolerate it all and lashed out. There’s an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t manage to push it out through the indignation and fear.

No one breaks the silence. None of them speak. Samantha’s momentary confidence wavers and she considers making a run for it before realizing there are more of those giant aliens stationed at every exit.

“[....Aumko, I think we may have [intercourse (deragotory)] this beyond fixing.] [Feces (Derogatory) Feces (Derogatory) Feces (Derogatory)—]” Luckily, it doesn’t sound like she’s going to be executed for this. Unluckily, the aliens are just as unprepared as they were, and it wasn’t going to get any less confusing, was it?

“[I told you [Anatomical Feature (Exapserated)] that we should’ve started with a smaller group of diplomats. Instead of a “proper” meeting with everyone involved, we should’ve picked one from each of the 3 species, then gone from there. That would’ve been—]”

“I’m not getting any less confused here!!” Samantha cuts off the alien. “I’m not getting any younger either, I’m sick of your childish bickering, get over it and give me an explanation. Please, for the love of god.”

There’s a moment of pause as the translator spits out a bunch of meaningful white noise. It takes a couple moments before one of the birds speaks up.

“[We should cancel this until another time,] the bird chirps. Which isn’t satisfying, which isn’t an explanation, but hey it does technically fulfill the mission of stalling. And honestly she’s taking any win she can get from this. “[We’ll meet up with one of their diplomats, in a less noisy location. They’ll meet with one ambassador from each of our species.]

“[That doesn’t make sense though!!] [How will we even choose?] [A smaller meeting would be a sign of disrespect, we must show that we don’t view the New-Ally as lesser.]” the noise starts up again immediately.

“[SHUT UP!!]” roars one of the giant bears in a show of irritation that she can relate to on a spiritual level. “[Myy-Rrr-Pl will serve as the [Error: No suitable translation]’s ambassador. I’ll be the second ambassador. The third will be Kss’ta.]

There are ruffled feathers, low growls, no outward arguments but no agreements either.

“[I will quite literally fight anyone who decides to waste my time any further.] the bear is...puffing up? The mane of fur around its neck is puffed up like the pelt of an angry cat. “[Myy-Rrr-Pl is the only one who can even half speak the language, and who has the most context. Even if her presentation was awful.]”

“[I’m going to be there personally to ensure this doesn’t happen a second time. And Kss’Ta is the only one of you [Species Name] [Intercourse (Derogatory)] who doesn’t argue around in circles.”

The crowd is unhappier than ever. The bear speaking sounds done with it all. Samantha is too exhausted to give a shit at this point, and just decides to be glad it’s finally over, for now.

“[Is everyone here agreed with me?”] it flares about the room, ears pinned flat to its head and mane big enough to engulf the whole of its neck. All of the crowd flinches back, no one argues too vehemently, though complaints are muttered.

The bear turns to Samantha. “[You have my apologies for my own behavior, and the behavior of these [Species Name (Derogatory)]. We’ll escort your ship back to your station.]”

Relief hits her in a mix of “it’s finally over,” and “thank fuck no one died.”

Everyone leaves, with the mission sort of accomplished, with the peace talk sort of working, and a compromise no one is happy with. Except for Samantha.

But then she learns she’s the ambassador for humanity again, and a piece of her dies at the revelation.

Humanity’s welcome to the galaxy was chaotic, idiotic, ill prepared, and an overall clusterfuck of literally galactic proportions.

At least no one died.

#the terror of being known #humans are weird

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ghostiewriter · 4 years

Note

20/57 for the best couple ever jj and kie

I apologise in advanced for this, I haven’t looked over or edited it but oh well🤡

Word Count: 2.4K

Prompts: “It’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt!” // “We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.”

Whenever JJ thought of rain, he always thought of Kiara.

In a way, I guess you could say it was a force of habit of the universe to always put them together. It seemed like at every important point of their life, the rain was right there with them. JJ wasn’t even sure if he liked the rain because of Kiara or the other way around. They were so interchangeable because whenever he had a moment that mattered with her, the rain wasn’t far behind to make it just a little more memorable. Any significant memory JJ had of Kiara, there was always rain. Every single one.

Like, when they first met.

“I still don’t get.” The young boy huffed, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his two friends try and balance on one foot.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Jay? Girls like hopscotch. If we get good at hopscotch, we can impress them.” Little John B whined, arms flailing as he tried to maintain his balance before he grabbed onto Pope for support.

“That’s stupid. Girls are stupid.” The blond replied stubbornly. In the distance, a thunder clap echoed through the sky.

“Maybe we should head back inside,” Pope muttered as he narrowed his eyes at the grey sky. “Mrs Taylor said we shouldn’t be out here anyways—”

“We’re fine!” John B assured him. “Dad said the storm won’t roll in ‘til tomorrow night. And he is never wrong.” He puffed his chest as he spoke which didn’t do wonders for his balance.

“How reassuring.” JJ commented dryly. Even as an 8 year old, the boy had sass.

“My dad said that it will be here by four.” Another voice spoke up.

All three boys turned to see a girl standing there, almost like she appeared out of nowhere. She was around their age, JJ noted. And as he glanced over her appearance, that seemed to be where their similarities ended. He noticed how pristine and fancy her clothes looked. They didn’t have holes like his did, and her shoes seemed brand new and fitted to her feet, unlike the ragged ones that were handed down to him from some older kids at the dock. She was one of them, those rich folk he always heard his dad complaining about. Instantly, his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Well, your dad is wrong. Big John knows everything.” JJ retorted.

The girl’s eyebrows furrowed together. “That’s impossible. He can’t know everything.”

“He’s Big John, anything is possible for him.”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

The two of them continued to bicker back and forth, unaware of how consistent the thunder claps were becoming and how the sky looked much angrier than before. They were both wrong. The storm was coming now.

“Uh, guys—” Pope spoke up, alarmed.

Neither of them stopped.

“Guys!” John B tried this time.

He was unsuccessful.

Then suddenly rain started pouring. Heavily.

Shrieks escaped the young kids, both out of shock and laughter. Thunder clapped and the rain just kept getting heavier. He briefly heard John B yelling about heading back inside and Pope muttering how they were going to die.

“It’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt!” The girl called out as Pope was running towards the entrance back into the school, a pouting John B following him. But JJ stood there, a massive grin on his face.

“What a bunch of wimps.” He scoffed and the girl laughed. JJ decided that maybe she wasn’t so bad. “I’m JJ, by the way.”

“Kiara.” She replied with a matching grin.

Rain just happened to be one of those things that become a comfort in their relationship over the years, one that become a comfort to them individually too. Kiara didn’t understand her fascination with rain for a very long time. At first, she assumed it was just the relaxation and serenity she got from listening to rain sounds. But every time a storm hit the island, Kiara found herself excited for the rain to come. She would find any excuse to be in it, to just let it pour down on her and engulf her whole. Kiara always assumed she liked the calmness that surrounded rain.

That was until she was fourteen and realised just why she liked the rain so much.

It was the summer before freshman year when they decided to have one last bang before school dragged them under again for the next few months. Kiara found herself in the Boneyard with a cup in her hand (it was full of a god awful beer but she had grown to tolerate the taste, plus it was cheap). She was standing off to the side, just watching the party go ahead, needing a break from being sandwiched between dancing bodies all night.

Her eyes searched for her boys in the crowd, noticing them all pretty quickly: John B was surrounded by a group of tourons as they played some shitty drinking game she couldn’t really identify from the distance, Pope was talking away to some stoners in the corner who seemed interested in whatever he was rambling about, and lastly, she noticed JJ surrounded by a group of people as they happily drank and danced their troubles away.

It was gradual at first. A little bit of spitting, barely noticeable to the ongoing party guests as they continued to smile and laugh and drink. Then it got a little heavier, but people just laughed and assured the tourons that it would eventually die down. And then suddenly, it was pouring down and people were screaming and cheering and laughing. Kiara found herself smiling at the scene in front of her.

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY FUCKING STARTED!”

Kiara laughed, cringing a little at the choice of words but it seemed to work on the rest of the party-goers because they didn’t stop. Music blasting, people singing along, everyone enjoying their last few moments of freedom before the summer ended.

That’s when Kiara’s eyes spotted him once again and she felt her stomach drop a little.

JJ. JJ with his arms wrapped around some random girl’s waist, face nuzzled against her neck as they laughed and danced and howled at the rain. The rain pouring down on them, making the shirt he was wearing stick uncomfortably against his body and it seemed he thought the same because soon her threw it off. Her eyes trailed down his torso, appreciating the abs that were beginning to form and the muscles he was building up.

But that wasn’t what got to her.

It was when the random girl had turned around to face him, her arms wrapping around his neck before she pulled his lips down on hers.

Kiara’s heart skipped a beat as she watched closely.

She then saw JJ’s hands hover for a few seconds before he situated them on her hips and tugged her closer, returning the kiss was the same fever the random girl was giving.

And then she felt her heart stop. Watching him, kissing another girl, the rain pouring down on him as he was left unbothered while she stood there completely shattered.

Kiara liked the rain because it had always been their thing.

And now it wasn’t.

She saw him pull away, saw the random girl lean up and whisper something in his ear and then suddenly they were walking away from the group. They were heading for the grove, the place where couples only escaped to for one reason.

She thought about her moments with JJ, the times their hands had brushed more times than could be coincidental, the lingering looks they sent each other, the small blush that would appear on his cheeks whenever she complimented him. She thought it meant something but it clearly didn’t. And the idea that she could’ve made a move, made a fool or herself and ruin her friendship with him because of her feelings scared Kiara.

The next day the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule was made.

But then the gold summer came crashing down on the happy group when they least expected it and they weren’t prepared. It caused a lot of problems for the pogues, changed things.

They always knew where each other were, no matter what. They made sure to check up on each other at least once a day. There were smaller rules within that, things they never really specified but just seemed to fit in—mostly the lack of complaining from their parental figures on how much they hung out, especially after that fateful night with The Phantom. There weren’t many of them left but they would be damned if they lost each other too.

One of the biggest changes that JJ found was his hatred towards storms. As a child he found them freeing and wild and fun. They were an escape from the usual (and unfortunately shit) Outer Banks he lived in. Storms and rain were something he loved. But after seeing his best friend go down in one, in the boat he had put him on, JJ couldn’t bring himself to see rain in the same way.

Until she changed that.

Kie knew about the storm approaching, and she knew it would be a bad one. Originally, the three of them were going to stay over at the Chateau, but then Pope was being dragged into storm protection duties with his father. So it was just her and JJ, not that she minded too much. Things had been a bit awkward after John B’s departure, Kie acting on her emotions and not thinking clearly. She made some mistakes, and those mistakes almost made her lose both of her best friends. She hadn’t risked anything since then and finally, they were in a place where thinks didn’t feel so forced.

Things felt normal. They felt normal.

The storm had been raging outside for a while now, Kie and JJ sprawled on the pull-out as they just enjoyed each other’s company. Kie was reading a book, JJ’s head on her lap as she gently ran her hands through his hair. JJ had dozed off at some point, but Kie didn’t have the heart to wake him up, not since she knew he had been struggling to get a wink of sleep lately.

It wasn’t until she realised she had left her bag in the car. Usually, it wouldn’t be an issue. She would just borrow some of JJ’s clothes without a second thought. But her toiletries were in that bag and she didn’t fancy sharing a toothbrush with JJ anytime soon.

As quietly as she could, she gently slipped off the pull-out and grabbed her keys. She wasted no time in sprinting towards the car, quickly unlocking the car to grab her bag before running back to the shelter of the Chateau. Except, it just so happened the door had locked behind her.

Cursing slightly, she found herself knocking frantically on the door until a slightly dazed JJ came shuffling from the living room, opening the door and glancing down at her soaked figure. His eyes then fell down to her bag and just simply nodded before he turned to grab a towel from the bathroom, knowing what she wanted before she could even say it.

However, JJ seemed to be taking him time in getting that towel. Kie found herself turning back the rain. She hadn’t really seen the rain as anything but a nuisance since John B and Sarah’s disappearance. She couldn’t bring herself to see it anything but that. But this storm felt different, she almost felt like she was in a trance as she walked back into the exposed storm.

Her eyes shut, arms limp on her side as she leaned her head back and just let herself enjoy the slight nipping feeling of the rain on her skin, embracing the cold wind that came with it.

“Kie? What the fuck are you doing?” She heard JJ call out from the doorway but she didn’t move. She stayed stuck in her spot, a feeling of euphoria washing over her the longer she stood there. It was cleansing, refreshing. It’s what she needed after the months of hell they had been through.

She opened her eyes when she felt JJ’s hands on her shoulders, trying to shake her out of whatever moment on insanity she was having.

“Kie, c’mon, let’s get back inside.” But she just shook her head.

“Can’t you feel it?” She asked him and he only gave her a bewildered glance in response.

“Feel what, my balls freezing off? Because the answer is yes. Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her back to the Chateau but she dug her heels into the ground, shaking her head. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders, grabbing them in her own and pulling him closer.

“Just give in, Jay. It’s okay, I promise.” She murmured, JJ’s eyes on her lips like he was mesmerised by the way they moved. And when JJ finally stopped trying to drag her back inside, he was able to finally appreciate what she meant.

For so long he had hated the rain. He hated the memories it gave him. But in that moment, chest pressed against Kie’s, as they both stood in the pouring rain, JJ felt that same love he felt for the rain when he was younger. And he felt the same love he had for the brunette in front of him he had when he was younger too.

His eyes fluttered open, glancing down at her only to find that she was staring back at him with those big doe eyes of her.

“Kie…” He trailed off but she lightly shook her head, lightly shushing him.

“I just need to know…even if it’s once.” She murmured before she raised herself up on her toes and quickly pressed her lips against his. In an instant, they had their arms wrapped around each other as they got lost each other and in the rain.

This is what they needed, what they always wanted. This is why this storm was different because it also knew. It knew that JJ and Kiara needed rain in their lives, that rain followed the big moments in their relationship.

And this time the rain showered down on the two friends that realised after all these years, their love was requited.

“We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.” JJ muttered against her lips once they pulled away a little to catch their breath.

“I didn’t see you complaining before,” She whispered back, a small smile tugging on her lips. “Plus, makes it more memorable.”

“You’re crazy.”

“But you love that about me.”

“I do.”

Now whenever JJ thought of rain, he thought of kissing the love of his life.

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jiara prompts #writing prompts #my writing

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dumbdotcomm · 4 years

Text

a little luck and some frogs

(a/n) the iconic @pricklydapper drew this amazing piece for me of Mikey and Raph and I just had to write a angst/fluff one-shot for it!!!

There’s a still and a quiet that comes with rain, gentle and slow and lulling. They haven’t had quiet in so long, it seems; it feels like days blend into one another, new paths unlocked in their destinies or whatever.

Sometimes Raph would just like to stop. Go back to being that 15 year old kid living below Queens, having nothing but his tight knit family and a lair game tournament to worry about.

They’ve been firing on all cylinders for days, and god he’s just tired, overstimulated and definitely in need of, like, a detox or something- Leo and April go on about those kinds of things. Maybe he’ll give that a try.

But even as the days pass, long long after they’ve settled back into home and dealing with low-level crime, Raph still can’t really relax. Not in the way that lasts. He’s always looking, anticipating the moment their relative peace will elude them, and the next thing he’ll know is they’ll be miles high, falling from a building, pushing and pushing to catch one another- or at the docks watching his brother get torn apart.

Raph feels like he’s gonna hurl and he does, nothing but last night’s dinner and severe anxiety spilling out from him.

It’s gross and embarrassing and Raph knows it’s nothing he can control; the little helpful part of his brain is reassuring that way. But it was easier to feel so panicky when everyone else was still reeling from the fight.

Leo’s got his detoxing with April, Mikey’s gone off and found Draxum to rehabilitate for god knows what reason, and Donnie’s regulated his sleeping cycle again and he’s gone back to shittalking and watching gophers on Youtube so- he’s okay.

Everyone’s okay…. except for Raph.

But maybe what Raph doesn’t know is that the somewhat okay thing about it, the silver-ish lining in all of it is- even if he’s feeling alone… he’s not. He never is. And Raph has always hated his panic-stink but maybe it’s doing him some good, because he brothers are attentive, and Mikey’s especially perceptive.

It’s why, on this languid, rainy ass day, Mikey barges into Raph’s room with a shopping bag from Old Navy. How he got to, and inside, and outside of Old Navy, Raph doesn’t really have to wonder (humans were so funny in ignoring obvious things, it made raph wonder why mutants stayed hidden anyway).

But Mikey’s got a grin that stretches a mile wide and is pretty contagious, as he struts into the room after having stood in the entrance in that weird ‘younger sibling is now here to bother you’ stance.

“Whaaat are we doing…?” Raph asks cautiously, but can’t hide his own growing smile the longer Mikey beams.

He says ‘we’ because there’s always a ‘we’ in these types of situations, and he’d rather just include himself now off the bat.

“Glad’ja asked,” Mikey says, and dumps the Old Navy bag out of Raph’s bed, “Behold….the best freakin’ things ever.”

And woah- they kinda are the best freaking things ever. Practically see-through jackets with-

“No way! Mikey!” Raph clutches his- he already knows it’s his by the size, extra huge and all, “Bro this-? Is pretty sick. How’d you even get it this big?!”

The thing about them and clothes is: Leo, Donnie and Mikey are all, at least, human people sizes. It’s easy for them to snag just about anything, even some of April’s old stuff fits them. Hell, Leo could fit into Dad’s old suit. And that luxury was kinda foreign to Raph.

Humans barely even made enough fashionable clothes for all of their people- and Raph was kind of outside of that caliber.

He’s kinda getting teary eyed, but, like, who wouldn’t, and Mikey’s already slipping into his own coat, see-through and speckled with little oranges.

“Eh, it’s no biggie,” he sniffs, shrugging the jacket on the rest of the way (it’s totally a biggie), “I kinda...customized ‘em. They were havin’ this special, and I thought ‘screw it baby, we need raincoats’!”

And, careful of his strength, Raph goes for a hug that he knows Mikey was anticipating anyway, with the force that he hugs back and all. Raph doesn’t really need to say anything, but his warbly thank you to Mikey is just a fraction of the depth of emotion he feels now.

It’s funny, silly maybe, because this doesn’t erase the threat of a bigger fight, a worse enemy lurking in the shadows to trip them up- it’s just a custom made see-through raincoat with Raph’s favorite fruit, adorable little strawberries, on it.

And yet he feels indescribably lighter than he’s felt in weeks.

“I figured we could do some adventuring, and I gotta cooks tonight so…”

Mikey wriggles his brow ridge, and Raph can’t help but, like, wanna combust from this surge of excitement and normalcy that he hasn’t felt in too long.

“Trip to Katagiri, hell yes!”

/////

The nice thing about rain in the city is, even though traffic is all the same, and people are still moving around, the sky gets dark enough from the clouds that the lights kinda shine prematurely. The streetlamps come on with a dim, orangey light, and with the autumn leaves mixed with green ones still clinging on, it was just so peaceful.

No one, again, seems to care that two turtles are walking down Lexington, and one couple briskly compliments their jackets and so that’s a plus.

Mikey compliments the one girl’s hair, shaved with hearts dyed into her scalp, and Raph can only appreciate that his brother is so well-spoken- that he just is so natural and confident out here.

That he doesn’t worry.

Raph remembers his first time topside, and how his fear led him into the state of consciousness that he hates to be in- where he’s on all instinct and fear and nothing else.

It’s gotten better since then, but the unease still lingers all these years. Raph wonders if he’ll get rid of it all the way.

Donnie realistically told him he might not, but that all he has to do is count to ten and back again, look around, find something to focus on- something ordinary or something great, and cling to it till he can convince his body and mind that he’s safe- that things will return to normal in a sec.

And right now, Raph keeps his eyes locked on his brother’s feet, as they pound the sidewalk, making little splashes in rain water.

As he’s watching, a frog of all things, just hops along the sidewalk, right at Raph’s feet. It makes him halt, because....maybe it’s coincidental or maybe Raph’s reading too into it, but Mikey turns around too, sees the frog that Raph stoops beside, and smiles in soft understanding.

It’s an omen of some sorts, Dad always said so. Of good luck, and of things returning.

Raph breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

Just as quickly as the frog comes, it hops away, and Raph stands, still a bit speechless, still kinda processing the meaning behind what just happened, desperately wanting to cling to it meaning good fortune.

He doesn’t wanna worry his brother though, and so he thinks of something to joke or talk about as they start to walk again, only for Mikey to beat him to it.

“I never told you thanks,” he says, gently, like he’s been reading Raph’s aura. Maybe he has.

And somehow Raph already knows what he’s thanking him for, but decides within himself that Mikey really, really shouldn’t. He was just doing his job. He tells Mikey this breezily, with a soft smile.

“Bullshit,” Mikey snaps back, but only because he knows Raphael so well, “We’re kids- we don’t got jobs- except for Donnie occasionally….suspiciously-” he shakes off the trailing thought, “Anyway- it’s not ‘your job’. It was just a shitty...long fight and ya really held us down, Raph.”

They cross the street, momentarily separating with the influx of people but find their way back in a second, the neon ‘Gonbei’ sign now visible to them.

And it’s not that Raph is all that surprised by Mikey. He knows his brother’s always had a knack for speaking in a way that just...made so much sense and was so profound without any complexity. But maybe it’s his brother being 14 now, that makes him even wiser.

“I know we don’t got jobs,” Raph concedes, as they pass the Lexington Flowers shop, “But, you know, I’m big...bigger than you guys, an’ I might not be as smart but when it comes to protecting, an’ planning….it’s what a leader’s s’posed ta do, y’know?”

They don’t often talk about the leadership thing- not that it’s touchy, it’s just not really relevant with how they function. But Mikey knows Raph’s internalized the role a bit more recently. And that Leo getting dropped from a building may have been the catalyst.

He knows his brother’s technically got a job to do. Mikey resents that, and their Dad a little bit, for not making Raph ready for all of what happened weeks ago.

Though he knows that’s not all fair. His father was only protecting them.

Still….it sucks.

“Well, if it means anything, I think you’re smart. And ‘m not sure if I can promise this, but I’m gonna do it anyway...” Mikey says, stopping in his tracks and turning to Raph, who also stops walking and gets called a ‘fuckin asshat’ for blocking a chunk of the sidewalk but- hey.

Mikey politely tells the guy to go fuck himself and when the guy turns to get a good enough look- not at Raph’s size, but at his little gremlin brother with a chain that’s starting to flame up- he decides this whole situation is not something he wants any parts of.

Mikey rolls his eyes and turns back to Raph, face all sincere and kind for someone who just...did that, “I promise we’re okay, and we’re always gonna be stuck together, Raph. I know that won’t magically make you feel better but...just thought I’d say it.”

And Raph tries to say something, but has to clear his throat, and it’s definitely the rain on his cheeks and beak.

“No,” he croaks, and laughs at his voice, happy that Mikey laughs too, “Nah, it- it really helps a lot Mikey….thank you- thanks, man.”

Satisfied, Mikey turns to keep on walking, patting Raph’s shell, “Anytime bud.”

////

Katagiri’s never disappoints. Mikey leaves with milk tea, shrimp tempura and shiso, more milk tea and a couple boxes of mochi ice. It’s one of those days.

He swings his groceries as they walk.

Raph doesn’t wonder about the frog and its meaning, and doesn’t doubt its luck and why it appeared to him.

He’s kinda figured it out. Because he still has moments like this, watching his brother merrily skip a few steps ahead of him, chatting breezily about pineapple upside down pancakes- and Mikey made a promise, after all, that they’re gonna be together, no matter what.

If that’s not lucky, being with his family, leaning on them when it counts, then Raph’s got no clue what is.

#rise of the tmnt #michelangelo #raphael #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph

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border-spam · 4 years

Text

Leech Lord - The thought that counts

Troy

Calypso is a bizarre, very weird man who's concept of a "gift" can be some hot drink Ven brought for him to a late night meeting, the time JK handed him a slightly rusted 1/4 socket wrench they'd spotted on a scrap pile while patrolling the slums and recalled him saying he'd have to ask Sei for the day before, or a photo of a flower Eli saw and sent on an incognito chat line.

What he considers gifts aren't usually that tangible so aren't things he can show to others, but there are some actual gifts he's held onto for far too long and people are fucking sick of being shown.

You ever see a coffee cup that hasn't been washed in eight years??

Well his friends have. Weekly.

Ty had "made it" for him in their first year planet-side, a shitty white .50c mug she'd crudely painted "Best Bro, lol" on in now peeling enamel. He knows it was a joke, but it doesn't change how that stupid gross mug has made him feel when things have been so bad that he's spent nights rolling it gently between a flesh and metal hand, reassuring himself with memories of the good times.

I mean he.. he cleans it, he rinses it out, but if he washed it properly the paint would just come straight off and that ain't happening. He drinks so much coffee. The poor thing gets refilled 4, 5 times a night sometimes, it's VILE looking. Brown and black stains, more rings than a felled steelwood tree running down the inside..

Ven hates it. Sei hates it. Eli smiles and tries not to die when he sees it. JK FUCKING LOVES IT. That mug is more Troy to them then his cruel prosthetic is, that mug is the most Troy thing on his damn ship.

Seifa has "politely" insisted on sealing it for him so he CAN wash it, but she's been told with frightening clarity that she’s not allowed near it. Leave it alone, it's fine.

Ven joke gifted him a pair of cursed-text booty shorts after two years of seeing The Holy Father’s ass crack daily and feeling his soul leave his body every time.

Troy took it as part insult / part challenge and made sure to actually wear them around Ven and make sure the other man was aware.

It went from hitching his pants just low enough in public to show their hem and smirking as they were recognised, to just straight up wearing them instead of his usual baggy harem pants some nights when he knew Ven would be spending a few hours in Sanctum.

Sei was completely in on this and acted nonchalant as her friend would desperately try to look around the room for support as his life-force withered while having to sit next to his boss in cursed hotpants and everyone else treating it like it was completely normal.

That stopped when Sei wasn't around, that kind of bullshit just didn't feel right.

He still has them though. They'll.. make a return one day, and Ven won't be ready.

Seifa

On the gift front, she's got 2 modes

1 - Extremely expensive item of value:

Munny. Nice. Highly appreciates it but won't from a personal level ( unless it's also exceptionally catered to her like very carefully chosen jewelry ). She'll secure it somewhere behind lock and key in her ship, and take it out to fondle on her floor like a goblin if she's feeling down.

Sei won't use any expensive gifts for fear of somehow "wasting" then, a weird after effect of poverty and a knife edge upbringing, but she'll cover herself in platinum and diamonds AT HOME while watching bullshit on the E-Net and drinking wine. Think Jenna Marbles leeeshuring. Only does this in private, it's some odd way of enjoying the things she's been given without fear of somehow devaluing them. She's fuckin weird. She is a weird person, she's just very close to even weirder monster twins and they distract a lot of attention from her strangeness.

2 - Piece of shit someone found in a flea market and thought of her or made for her poorly:

What the fuck. What the fuck. Treasure. Will go all red eyed and mouth wobbly when given it, won't know what the hell to say. Will use / wear / show it off daily. Will proudly point out gifts like this in her ship to visitors, go over who gave it to her, where it's from, what that person means to her, everything.

If it's wearable it will be patched into or worn with her best outfits bar ceremonial garb. She's covered in little mementos of friends and colleagues she takes massive comfort from by having close to her at all times, 'specially as some are too far away to see that often, or aren't around at all anymore.

The pendant Ven surprised her with has found its way into almost every ensemble she wears, it's on next to scrap chains and fool’s gold when she's elbow deep in a Mechanicum's process machine's axle oil, and it's on when she's dripping in platinum and faux giggling at a gala. This is... noticed by Troy, who is silently aware of how the shockingly expensive jewelry he's been gifting her for years remains stashed in lockboxes around her ship while Ven's bit of glass rarely leaves her skin. He finds it harder to ignore the blue-green glint of it far more than he'd want anyone to know.

He sent her a droid, years ago. She picked it up from a holding dock in a grimy but carefully packaged parcel and loved it at first sight. Tiny little hive-drone, smaller than her fist and mashed together from what looked like scrap - ancient LED screen able to just about render a simple smiley face with oversized pixels. A chicken scratch note about how they were doing well, things had been going great and they'd really started to find their footing now.

Lines about Tyreen being a pain in the ass, how he'd been having fun with this stuff - droids, that she'd been right that he should try messing around with the amount of scrap bots you could find in any junkpile across Pandora. Said he'd made this for her because he remembered her ship had no V.I. network and how half the rec-room was covered in notes she'd end up having to take to keep on top of deals and interesting tips. This little floating ball could link with her E-Dev and convert audio into notes, calender bookings, maybe make her life a bit easier? Cause she had made theirs easier, him and Ty's, hadn't she. He wanted to give her something back. When would she be touching down again anyway? Been nearly a year since they’d left her ship to make a name for themselves.. and he had a lot to show her...

She still uses that little droid daily, chats idly to it as it sits on her office desk in the Mechanicum, blinking crude emojis at her as it happily translates Sei’s cranky mutters into a schedule that makes her life just a bit easier.

JK's silent hand over of something heavy and palm sized wrapped so beautifully in patterned cloth had keyed her in on not opening it till she was alone, but that prescription lens...

Fitted so carefully onto a hinged frame she knew at a glance would socket over her favored welding goggles? The crude but confident metal work, the tiny flicks of coloured paint she recognised and warmed her heart immediately? That asshole.. that beautiful, clever bastard.

Said nothing, knew she didn't need to, but it's been YEARS and she still notices the slight puff to their chest and way they straighten a little taller when they spot it perched over her right eye.

Asks are open!

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #leech lord #seifa #ven #jk #jak-knife #oc:ven #oc: jak-knife #my hcs #my writing

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eirist · 4 years

Text

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

TRICK OR TREAT?

One-shot #: 22

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Playful, sexy, suggestive)

Note: Happy Halloween! What is this day if we don’t have a ZoNa one-shot centered on this theme right? This is Prompt #9 – Trick or Treat from the Autumn/Fall (and Halloween!) Prompt List.

Summary: Because when are treats just sweets?

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Laughter filled the air, its tone howling and mocking—obviously at the expense of one poor soul unluckily enough to be the cause of it.

“Shut. Up.”

That comment prompted another round of laughter. Louder, more jeering.

“What in the—hahaha!—world… ha-happened to y-you?” Usopp stammered the question, gasping for air as he tried to get some words out while still laughing.

“I said. Shut. Up!” Zoro snarled towards his direction.

Sanji’s grin was pure evil as he peered down from the galley deck, laughing as well. “Say what now?” He teased. “Kindly… uh… growl that again for us?”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!” Usopp did not hold back this time. He had actually fallen down to his knees on the grassy deck, laughing still and clutching his middle at the same time.

“Guys…” Nami was trying hard—very hard—to hold back her own laughter at the sight before her. Her lower lip trembled at the effort and she bit at it, hoping to gain some control.

“But Nami-san…!” Sanji wasn’t able to continue what he was saying. He exploded into laughter again while pointing at the three figures standing in the middle of the Sunny’s deck.

Their three crewmates had just returned to the ship after frolicking in the island where they are docked. It would’ve been a normal occurrence… if not for the fact that the three are wearing costumes.

Animal costumes.

Animal jumpsuit costumes.

Nami covered her mouth with her hand to prevent the snort of laughter that threatened to come out of her as she stared at Luffy, Chopper and…

… dear Kami, Zoro.

Her eyes met his and her shoulders shook from hindering her laugh. His glare was scathing, venomous even.

And she wisely kept her mouth shut lest she incur his wrath.

She actually doesn’t want to get into his bad side tonight.

Not when he is in that tiger costume looking like he was gonna maul everyone to death any minute now.

Nami managed to take a deep breath and compose herself. Yet, she cannot prevent a grin from appearing on her face as she asked. “Are you gonna tell us what’s up? And what’s with the outfits?”

Usopp and Sanji were laughing again, slapping their hands against the lawn deck and the banister respectively.

Franky walked past them on his way to the dock system. And he did a double take. A minute passed before he said, "Aw! Nice costume Zoro!" He gave him a thumbs up before disappearing down the hatch.

If looks could only kill, the cyborg will be dead on the spot… right after that comment.

Zoro’s lone eye narrowed at the two. “You two done now?” He looked unamused; arms folded over his chest as he waited for his idiot crew mates to calm down.

Which honestly looks like it’s gonna take some time.

“No, not yet!” Usopp was still cackling. “This is gold.” He was now sitting down the lawn deck, trying to catch his breath. “Haaah! I’m laughing so hard I think my stomach muscles are cramping.”

“What in the world made you wear that marimo?” Sanji was now heading down the stairs, shaking his head, the snide grin never leaving his face.

Zoro didn’t answer, instead he pinned the blond with the deadliest glare he could muster.

Which is definitely not working since what he was currently wearing undermines the intensity of the look he was giving the chef.

“I asked him to…” Chopper suddenly said in shy, little voice that had most of the Mugiwaras halting. Usopp choked in the middle of his laughter, ending in a coughing fit as he tried to get some air into his lungs.

The others exchanged glances. Everyone has a weak spot for the reindeer after all.

“Actually, me and Luffy kinda forced him.” Chopper admitted, looking up at Zoro who was still glaring at the cook.

Ah. Everyone had the same thought instantly. The reindeer and the captain, huh? The two persons on the ship that the swordsman can hardly ever say no to.

“Well,” Sanji squared his shoulder. “Good job choosing the costume then.”

An expletive escaped Zoro’s mouth.

The cook’s face lit up at that as he reached the deck, standing beside the still crouching Usopp. “Louder will ya?” He smirked. “Aren’t tigers supposed to be capable of growling loudly?”

“I will bite you in half shitty cook!”

“Whoa! I see we are really getting into character now. Whatever happened to using your katanas?”

“Temee…”

“Sanji-kun!” Nami suddenly stepped in front of Zoro with one hand pushing at the taller man’s face. “Stop riling the tiger up!”

“Grrr… you’re next witch!” Zoro scowled underneath her palm, before slapping it away with his own hand… or paw to be exact.

“I think we look awesome!” Luffy shouted excitedly. “Chopper and I really got lots of candies and goodies!” He showed them the pumpkin pails he was holding, overflowing with different treats.

“Yes!” Chopper’s eyes are brimming with delight. “And Zoro gave us his share as well!!!” He also showed them his goodies.

“Don’t need ‘em,” Zoro muttered curtly, still trying to swat Nami’s hand away.

“Oh?” Sanji leaned down to inspect their pails. “Looks like the tiger’s kind of a softie.”

Now that had Zoro roaring and lunging at the blond. “Come here shit cook!”

Nami thwarted his effort with a hand on his chest and the other scratching one fluffy ear of the costume’s hoodie.

“There, there tiger,” she cooed. “Calm down.”

“Stop it witch!” He glowered at her. But it turned to a smirk when Sanji whined a ‘Nami-san, pet me too!’.

“Aho…” he drawled and it was Sanji’s turn to get riled up.

“GET AWAY FROM NAMI-SAN YOU DUMBASS!!!”

Robin came out of the aquarium bar and approached the group. She had heard the commotion but refrained from leaving her location. She was engrossed with the book that she was reading and had used her hana hana no mi to find out what’s going on.

“Ara…” she said gaining everyone’s attention. “Did you three have fun?”

“Robin-chwaan!” Sanji was immediately distracted by his other female crewmate. “I hope we didn’t disturb you my lady.” He was instantly suave and gentlemanly and was kneeling down on knee, holding the older woman’s hand in his.

“Not at all,” she smiled. “How was your trip in the town?” She directed the question to the three costumed Mugiwaras. Not once did her calm, composed demeanor break… even at the sight of their intimidating swordsman donning on an animal jumpsuit.

“It was so much fun!” Chopper gushed showing her the pumpkin pails. “Look at all the candy I got Robin!”

“Me too! Me too!” Luffy flaunted his as well.

“Looks like it was an amazing trip then,” Robin smiled.

Luffy nodded. “Yep it was awesome! They have something going on there where. You knock on doors and say trick or treat!”

“Then they will give you candies! Lots and lots of candies!” Chopper explained giddily.

“But you have to be in a costume first! And Zoro said we can’t go knocking on houses dressed in the usual!” The rubberman added.

Behind them Zoro was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Pretty good call,” Brook suddenly appeared and sauntered towards them with a tea cup in hand, nodding at Zoro. “We are in a civilian territory and some might recognize your faces from the posters Luffy-san.”

“I’m surprised you don’t find this funny.” Usopp pointed at the three, raising an eyebrow at the skeleton.

“Ah I did… I already laughed my eyes out before I went here, yohohohoh! Even if I—”

“—don’t have eyes to see.” Usopp deadpanned with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

“That is not very nice Usopp-san!” Brook retorted when his skull joke was foiled.

“Hmmm…” Nami suddenly hummed. “I see… since Zoro is the delegated baby-sitter of you two for the night…hence the costume.” She smiled cheekily at him before scratching his tiger ear again and he gave her a sharp look.

Luffy nodded. “You said he should come with us! And I’m not gonna go back here empty-handed. Everyone is giving away treats and candies in town!” Then he frowned. “But there’s no meat though…”

Robin laughed softly. “Well, the island’s tradition is to give out sweets to those who are trick or treating. That’s why there are no meats or other foods.”

“Or beer.” Zoro complained as Nami flicked Zoro’s nose playfully.

He glared angrily at her.

“So who picked the animal costumes?” The navigator asked, curious why Zoro ended up looking like this.

“Us!!!” Luffy and Chopper raised their hands.

“I wanted to be the monkey!” Luffy pumped his hands into the air. “Because…”

“Monkey D. Luffy?” Sanji cut in, blowing a stream of smoke nonchalantly.

“Right!”

“Figures.”

“And Chopper-san’s supposed to be a…?” Brook queried.

“Tanuki,” Zoro answered, his lone grey eye still looking daggers on Nami.

“Isn’t that a bit redundant?” Usopp raised an eyebrow at Chopper.

“It’s not a raccoon-dog! It’s a raccoon Zoro!” The doctor corrected him.

“Right. Sorry.”

“So you’re a….” the sniper prompted. He still cannot make up his mind between raccoon, raccoon-dog or a reindeer in a reindeer costume.

“Raccoon! This costume is a raccoon!”

“Honestly, I’m confused,” the sharpshooter admitted, blinking at the others doubtfully.

“Usopp you asshole!” Chopper screamed in indignation.

“Hahaha! Just kidding,” Usopp backtracked. “Of course the great god Usopp knows what you are already!”

“Which is?” Nami queried, looking at him unconvincingly.

Usopp coughed and ignored her. “And how did Zoro ended up as a tiger?”

“It was the only available one,” the swordsman grunted.

“Why didn’t you just covered him with anything green and let him come as his marimo self?” Sanji inquired, that shit-eating grin he has on his face never waning.

“I will kill you aho cook.”

“Oh!” Sanji trembled mockingly. “Whatcha gonna do hit me with your paw?”

They were about to lunge at each other when Nami raised both of her hands to stop them.

“That is enough!” Nami then stood on tiptoes and reached out to pinched ears of the tiger costume. “Let’s all just agree that as much as it is funny, they look absolutely cute.

Sanji looked shocked and whimpered, “Nami-san!”

“I am not cute woman! Get off!” Zoro groused as he tried to pull Nami’s hands away. It required some effort to be honest as the jumpsuit he was wearing ended up with paws for the hands.

Robin let out a soft giggle. “For what it’s worth… I honestly think it is cute Zoro.” She offered her two cent’s worth, her smile ever polite. “And sweet,” she added as well as her gaze hovered over Chopper and Luffy affectionately, knowing that the swordsman did it for the two.

“It is,” Nami agreed, breaking into a grin. “Especially that drawn nose and whiskers.” She tapped Zoro’s nose and it had him growling at her. This time she laughed… out loud. He’s kinda getting into that tiger persona quite effortlessly.

Though she maybe laughing at green-haired man’s expense yet that doesn’t mean she didn’t find his current look… enticing. And yes, cute.

Absolutely cute.

She could just eat him right here. Right now.

Zoro snorted even as his face turned red at their comments. Chopper then explained that the store owner where they got the costumes from had offered to draw on Luffy and Zoro’s faces.

“It is cute, ne Robin?” Luffy aimed the question at the older woman, smiling brightly.

Robin’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “It is senchou.”

“Hey! Why don’t we all go and trick or treat some more?” Luffy suggested. “I’m pretty sure there are houses we still haven’t visited…”

“Yes!” Chopper pumped his hooves up in the air. “More candies!”

“Sanji you should go with us as well! We’ll find you a costume like what we have!” Luffy grabbed the cook’s hands much to his chagrin.

“What? NO!”

“Good maybe there’s an ero-kappa costume where we got this. That’ll suit him.” Zoro suggested, smirking at the thought that the stupid chef will end up in a stupid costume just like him.

If it wasn’t for Luffy and Chopper… this would not have taken place. Damn it!

“You asshole!” Sanji shouted as the same notion dawned into him.

“I’m done.” Zoro then announced with a huff. “It’s your turn to babysit them now. I’m gonna go nap. Chopper, you can drag Usopp as well this time for another round of trick or treating.”

“Alright.” The reindeer beamed at him. “Zoro thank you for tonight!”

That pulled the corner of the grumpy tiger’s lips up before he headed towards the sleeping quarters.

“Not another word witch.” He muttered as he passed by a still grinning Nami.

“I didn’t say anything,” Nami retorted as she watched him head towards the men’s room.

“So,” Robin caught everyone’s attention at that. “Shall we head back to town, get some costumes and enjoy some trick or treating ourselves?”

A chorus of yes answered her.

-------------------------

A soft knock on the door woke Zoro up.

He opened his eye at the sound. The men’s quarter was dark and the ship silent.

The others are still probably trick or treating in the island.

Sitting up he realized that must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa in the middle of the room instead of his bunk bed.

Another knock sounded. And he sleepily stood up, groaning when he realized he still hadn’t gotten out of the stupid tiger costume he was wearing.

Running a paw over his head (in an attempt to run his fingers through his hair) he approached the door and opened it.

He was met with a Cheshire cat-like smile on a cat burglar’s face—who was wearing a sexy, black cat costume.

A far cry from the conservative jumpsuit he and the others had on.

She was clad in a one piece black suit so tight it was hugging her curves. The front was zip only halfway up, displaying her ample cleavage. Black stockings and heels made up the lower part of her attire and cute cat ears headband completed her feline ensemble.

Trust Nami to find some way to don a costume that’ll flaunt all her generous assets.

"Trick or treat?"

She inquired as she smirked at him.

"Tch!"

And she chortled as his reaction, plus at the fact that he still hadn’t taken his tiger costume off. She took a step inside, her black high heels made a clicking sound against the wooden floor, the tail of her one piece suit swaying at her movement in time with her orange curls.

"So trick or treat?" She repeated when Zoro didn’t make another sound and instead was scrutinizing her up and down.

Zoro snorted as he followed her. Her hand reached out and grabbed the front of his jumpsuit, pulling him closer to her. Licking her thumb, she reached out to try to erase the drawn tiger’s nose on his own, as well as the whiskers on his face.

“None,” he finally answered as she rubbed her finger on his face.

Nami laughed. What a grouch. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. His arms automatically encircled her waist.

“Wrong answer,” she whispered cattily.

“I don’t have any treats here. Luffy and Chopper has them.”

“Wrong again,” she kissed him on the jaw, tugging back the hood of his costume so she can ran her fingers through his hair.

His lips quirked up as she placed light, nipping kisses on his lips… her teasing smile never leaving her face.

She tugged at the front zipper of his costume down and watched fascinated as the toned muscles underneath it were slowly exposed.

"See Zoro…” she said, savoring the sight before as her eyes and hands trailed down his body. She pushed the garment off his shoulders. “Here’s my treat." She declared licking her lips naughtily.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #zona autumn/fall prompts #roronoa zoro #nami

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flatstarcarcosa · 3 years

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Reese... i am absolutely clueless but i don't WANT to be. so. please explain to me who Zaeed is. i wanna know everything. what's his story. where is he from. what does he do. what is he like. literally use this as an excuse to talk about him at length and also tell me how he came into your life, pls and thank u!!! -heavenshipped

@heavenshipped

he's an old pissy mercenary with a fucked up face, a fat ass, and one good eyeball.

"isn't that just slade?" you may be thinking and the answer to that is........

no, but actually, yes.

also there do be light mentions of drugs and general Junkie ShenanigansTM below

he's a dlc squadmate that shows up in mass effect 2. unfortunately being dlc means there's a lot of content and ideas that were originally cut, and there's not as many dynamic conversations w him as there are with others. he's also not romanceable but it works for selfshipping because any of the romanceable characters (and one other who isn't) are too tied to my shepards for me to ship with them.

i've actually been Looking Respectfully for a while but it was before i started selfshipping so i didn't really do much aside from curse bioware and the home of phobia of not letting us romance him.

i'm still fleshing out the details of our ship but i'm thinking i grew up on earth, it was inherently BadTM so i jumped at the first chance to hit up a colony. it did not go any better, and i just spent a lot of time hopping from place to place, causing mild chaos and abusing Many, Many substances.

when we do meet it's because i was running a con/hustle to get some quick credits, and zaeed thought i was a Literal Child that was about to Get Murdered by some pissed off aliens and intervened. i lost out on my money marks, he discovered i was actually An Adult and it left us in an awkward position of 'well, what now?'

for reasons he cannot immediately parse, he decides to give me a place to crash, initially just temporarily. we're having a grand ol time when i suddenly inform him mid sentence that i may have Taken Too Much and proceed to hit the floor and have a mild drug induced seizure in the middle of his kitchen.

for reasons he also cannot parse, he decides against his initial thought of dumping me in an alley and instead locks me in his bathroom and proceeds to detox my ass after he digs through my bag and sees just how many drugs i have on me.

(later on we pointedly ignore any medical professional who comments that detoxing someone in this way is dangerous as hell and you're more likely to kill them anything else because like. we know. it was fine. move on, we sure did.)

i spend the first three and a half days beating on the bathroom door and telling him all the ways i'm gonna eviscerate him if he doesn't open the door and give me my fucking shit back.

all total it takes about 10 days to clean me out, with him opening the bathroom long enough to make sure i'm at least drinking fluids if i won't eat. withdrawal kills your appetite, and makes you prone to puking for no reason.

the 11th day, i'm sitting at the table in the kitchen of the shitty rental apartment on whatever crappy colony we're on while he scrambles eggs and fries bacon and i ask him why the hell he bothered with any of this.

"beats me," he says. "i'm normally not one for doing anything that doesn't have a payoff in the end."

"i guess it beats waking up behind a dumpster again," i say.

after that we kind of just fall into a natural rhythm with each other, a weirdly comfortable fit despite his usual aversion to others and my inherent skittishness around them.

it takes a while for him to think about it, to realize that maybe it was just the timing of everything. maybe even he of all people was tired of never being able to put anything back into the galaxy. maybe the way i just calmly announced 'oh shit, i'm ODing again', with more annoyance and exhaustion in my voice than panic just stuck out to him. made him think of all the people he's run into before, lost and strung out and on their own.

all of them dead or dying and none of them knowing it yet.

maybe he just wanted to know if he could even keep someone alive, rather than being a walking curse and death sentence for anyone he meets.

maybe he was just lonely, and figured i was too.

he never really settles on one single answer that seems like it fits, and after a while, he figures it doesn't matter. what happened, happened.

and more importantly, it happened exactly the way it needed to, and thats all that really matters.

by the time the events of ME2 start, and commander shepard comes to recruit zaeed, i'm figuring him and i have been together about 5-7 years.

after the events of me2 and 3, and after the reaper war is over, zaeed uses his money he's been hoarding all these years and we buy a plot of land of bekenstein. the only thing on it is a dock on a lake that needs some TLC.

we build a two story cabin bit by bit, and zaeed of course builds a weapons bunker underneath, "just in case". there's a porch on the second story, a hot tub in the back yard, and a fireplace in the living room.

he spends the mornings drinking coffee and watching the sunrise, and the evenings with scotch and a cigar, watching it set, and every time he's amazed the both of us lived long enough to get to settle into something as mundane as this.

there's also stuff obviously related to me2 and 3 that i'm fleshing out of course.

also, this is some of the best content of the whole game and it's a simple fact.

also related to the above video:

i have a cheap ass, well worn, purple plush krogan toy that probably ended up costing him as much as a case of heat sinks and a whole fucking box of other prizes from the same claw machine.

oh!

we both got drunk one time and ended up at a vegas style space chapel, and neither of us have any recollection about it. he doesn't even know until he's visiting the citadel one day and the citadel tourism VI has his name hyphenated to massani-wilson.

"fuckin wot did you just call me?" "records indicate you and reese wilson-massani were married three years ago at-" "the goddamn hell we were-" "-Slicky Rickys Love Shack" "oh goddamn it. well, that explains the matching rings."

i also love the idea this comes out after shepard's recruited him, and shepard is just like

"wait you two have had matching ring for three years and didn't wonder what it was about?" "reese gets sentimental about weird shit, i figured it was just that." "well, cerberus didn't hire you for your critical thinking skills, i guess." "keep talkin' shepard and you'll be learning to do it out your arse." "i do that well enough already." "fair enough."

#txt.txt #*asks #ship: stubborn goddamn jackasses #drugs tw #im also not entirely sure how hyphenated names really work i just like the idea for this and reelix our original names #are first and the married name second. also god i sure hope this doesn't show up in the tumblr search hhghghfhf #if it does: please be nice i'm just minding my own business

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